Greatest American Hero  Reprise
by phoenixnz
Summary: Twenty-five years after the green guys gave Ralph Hinkley and Bill Maxwell a suit and a mission to save the world they return, only to charge Ralph's son and Bill's daughter with the same mission, and sparks will fly.
1. Prologue

Prologue 1985

"I hate you Ralph Hinkley. First it was that stupid super suit, now this."

"Just push Pam." Ralph pushed a tired hand through his curly blonde hair, realising he was sweating. Pam had hold of his other hand. Correction, she was crushing it. Not for the first time in her thirty-six hour labour, Ralph wished he still had the super suit. At least with the suit on he'd be strong enough to take the bone-crushing grip.

But the aliens had decided his ego had become too big for his, or rather their boots (since it was their super suit) and they'd demanded he choose someone else. Well, it hadn't been his fault he'd been caught using it. It wasn't like he was Superman. Okay, so Superman had Clark Kent as his alter ego, and he was just a high school teacher and ... oh right, Pam.

"Push honey," he said.

Pam glared at him, then bore down, yelling. Her yells were accompanied by the squalls of the infant, who was objecting, and extremely loudly, to being taken from his mother's womb and brought out into the bright, rather loud, new world.

"It's a boy," the ob-gyn proclaimed. Ralph grinned at his wife, who had sunk back against the pillows, exhausted. The nurse handed Ralph the scissors and he cut the cord proudly, watching as they took the baby and washed the mucous off him. The baby's cries had softened to the occasional wail and he appeared to be listening.

Ralph took the baby when he was handed over and placed him in his mother's arms. She smiled down at the infant.

"Still hate me?" he said with a cheesy grin.

"Mm, maybe not," Pam said, her dark hair almost like a curtain as she tilted her head forward and looked her son over. "Ten fingers, ten toes. Yep, all there. Guess those green guys didn't do too much harm."

Ralph frowned. "Green guys? Now you sound like ..."

"Hiya kid. Hey Counselor."

Ralph groaned inwardly. He liked Bill Maxwell. Really he did. Some of the time. But most of the time, the, now retired, FBI agent just grated on his nerves.

"So, a boy huh? What are you gonna name him?"

"Well, not Bill, that's for sure," Pam snarked. Ralph hid a grin at Bill's crestfallen face. Then the older man brightened.

"Ah, she loves me, don't you Counselor."

Pam rolled her eyes, but then the baby cooed softly and she went back to looking adoringly at her newborn infant.

"We were thinking about naming him after Pam's father."

"Harry Hinkley? Naw, kid, you gotta have something better than that. Listen, while we're on the subject of kids, you wouldn't believe what happened to me. Seems I got a kid too."

"Surprise, surprise," Pam muttered.

"Her mother's suing me for alimony. So Counselor, when you gonna be up and running again? Could really use your beautiful brains on this one."

Pam glared at him with an 'are you kidding' look.

"Her mother?" Ralph asked his old partner.

"Yeah," Bill laughed. "Seems like I got a daughter. Her name's Sarah. She's three, now. And she's cute as a button, too. Only her mom – well, things didn't end too well and she doesn't want me seeing the kid. Can't say as I blame her though. After ... well, after all that stuff with the little green guys."

Ralph quickly did some calculations in his head. He knew Bill had been seeing a woman back when the whole thing with the super suit had started, but had broken it off when things got too hairy. Bill was a career man, through and through, but he did have his share of dalliances with the opposite sex. He was guessing that when Bill had broken it off, Sarah's mother was already pregnant. And why was Ralph thinking about Bill's love life when the love of his life had just given him a son. Well, a second son, to be exact, since he still had Kevin. His son by his first wife. Kevin lived with his mother most of the time.

2010

Sarah Maxwell sighed as she strode down the corridor of the Los Angeles FBI offices. She'd heard all the jokes about her last name. But it seemed like every time she walked into a room, there they all were, laughing about her crazy old man. It wasn't like Sarah had ever actually had much to do with Bill Maxwell, who had retired under a cloud of ... well, not suspicion, exactly, she thought. More like people thought he was nuts because he'd been working with a civilian who claimed to have a suit that gave him super powers.

Sarah hoped that guy was in the loony bin. As for Bill ... the only thing she really knew about him was that he had been a federal agent himself. He'd met her mother in the course of his work and they'd had a few dates. One in which her mother had got pregnant with her. Her mother had eventually sued Bill for alimony, but while she'd been able to prove that Sarah was his, he had had little to do with his daughter. She wondered sometimes, how she'd ended up following in her infamous father's footsteps.

"Hey, Maxwell, how are those green guys?"

"Cute Rodriguez. Haven't you got anything better to do than tell lame jokes?"

"Nah. Not since that guy who fancies himself Superman has been out there doing our job for us."

Sarah rolled her eyes and sighed. Clowns. Clowns and morons. That was what she had to put up with.

I hate you, Bill Maxwell, she thought.

Ralph Hinkley helped his son with his tie.

"Now, don't be nervous, okay?"

"Yeah, Dad, I know."

"I was really nervous on my first day."

"You were teaching high school, Dad. Different scenario."

"Yeah, I know," Ralph said. He was the principal of the suburban high school now instead of the teacher of the remedial class.

Pam Hinkley came down the stairs and looked fondly at her son. He had the same curly blonde hair as his father, although he kept it fairly short. She was proud of her first and only child for choosing his own profession. Eric, although his real name was Charles – Eric was his middle name, was twenty-five, and the sports writer for the local paper. He'd played baseball in high school and could have gone on to the big leagues if he hadn't torn a rotator cuff in his second year of college. He'd gained the attention of the paper's editor when he'd begun blogging about local sports

Now he was about to start his first day by heading off to report on the local minor league team's first away game. He would be riding with the team on their bus, getting a first-hand perspective.

As Eric drove away to meet the team at the stadium, Ralph watched, his arm around his wife of twenty-seven years. Life was great. No super suit, no green guys, and their son was about to embark on what looked to be a very promising career.

Famous last words.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Sarah stared morosely into her cup of coffee, pushing aside the bowl of salad. She'd ended up in this little diner, chasing a lead on a case out in the desert. But the lead had come to nothing. She had needed to take a dinner break and the diner was as good as anything. But as soon as she'd sat down and ordered, a whole group of jocks had come in. They were clearly jocks of some kind because they were wearing uniforms. And if she wasn't mistaken, baseball uniforms. She hated baseball. The last guy she'd gone out with had dragged her to some college game. She'd dumped the guy soon after.

The only memorable thing about that game was the kid who'd been injured. He'd been an impressive pitcher. That much she had noticed about him. He'd been kind of cute too, from what she'd seen. Short, curly blonde hair, tall, and way too young for her. Not that Sarah was looking. Nope, she was a career woman, through and through.

It hadn't been long after that that she'd joined the FBI, moving to Quantico to begin her training as an agent. They'd transferred her soon after graduation to the LA branch. Well, she supposed, since she'd grown up in LA it made sense. The only trouble was, it was the same branch her father had been placed with twenty odd years ago.

Sarah sighed. Stupid Bill Maxwell. Crazy Bill Maxwell. Hateful Bill Maxwell. She'd met him maybe twice in her whole life. Once when she was about three, and her mother had taken him to court for child support, and then when her mother had died when she was eighteen. Cancer. Bill had had the nerve to come to the funeral. And he'd tried to talk to her, but she wouldn't have a bar of it.

She'd heard that he'd died a year or so ago. His body had been found near the town of Sierra Madre. What had possessed him to go hiking at his advanced age, she had no idea. He was in his seventies, after all.

With another sigh, Sarah finished her coffee and went up to the counter for a refill. One of the baseball jocks grinned crookedly at her.

"Well, lookit what we got here. Hey beautiful, what's a gorgeous girl like you doing in a place like this?"

Sarah groaned, rolling her eyes. Jocks. Couldn't they come up with better lines? As if she'd believe anything they said anyway. She was far from beautiful. Her jaw was too square, her hair was too thin, her skin was too pale and her body – okay, well, she supposed her body was okay. She did work hard to keep in shape.

The guy was reaching for her and she just knew he was about to pat her on the ass. She looked at him coolly, biting her lower lip.

"You even move a centimetre closer and you'll lose that arm. Hate to think what that'll do to your game," she smirked, "Sport."

The guy was a lot dumber than he looked. Which was dumb. Because he kept moving his hand. Sarah grabbed his thumb, bending it back with a crack and he gasped in pain.

Eric saw the woman before he heard one of the guys cry out in pain. She was pretty. Brown hair cut short in a way that was flattering to her face, lush, full lips, sparkling green eyes. At a guess, he would say she was Irish by descent. She had the creamy white skin and Irish rose complexion common to those of her ancestry. And she clearly worked to keep her figure trim. And worked hard. Like all athletic guys, Eric appreciated a woman who knew how to keep herself fit.

He saw Deans lean forward, trying to flirt with the woman, then heard him cry out in pain. The woman was bending Deans' thumb back. An easy self-defence move which was supposed to give clear warning. Deans was a good baseball player, but he sucked at anything resembling good social behaviour. After two weeks hanging with the team, Eric knew the guys pretty well by now.

Feeling he needed to mollify the woman, he stepped forward.

"Hey, Deans, why don't you go order something to eat, huh?"

He looked at the woman as Deans' thumb was released.

"Listen, I'm sorry, I ..."

"For that Neanderthal? Don't wear yourself out, kid."

Kid? Hey, she might be a couple years older than him, but he was no kid. Eric bit back a retort. Okay, so the woman was pissed. But there was no need to bite his head off! She was rude. Just plain rude. But his parents had taught him better than that, so he kept his comments to himself.

"Look, let me get that," he said, seeing her bill on the counter.

"I got it," she said. She dumped her cash on the counter and turned away from him, without a single backward glance.

With a sigh, Eric shrugged. "Well," he said to himself, "at least she didn't pull a gun on me."

He recalled a story his father had once told him about meeting Bill Maxwell. The two men had been friends forever. For as long as Eric had been alive. Until just over a year ago when Bill's body had been found near Sierra Madre. His mom hadn't said much, but there'd always been some weird kind of tension between the two of them. Bill could be brash, insensitive, and an ass, Mom had told him, but he and Dad had been through a lot together. Eric still had no idea what exactly had brought the two together. Dad and Bill were like chalk and cheese. They had absolutely nothing in common.

_Twenty nine years earlier_

_Ralph had decided to take the 'special class' out on a geology field trip. They'd pulled in to a diner, having decided to get something to eat. Piling out of the bus, the class noisily made their way inside the diner. Sitting at one of the tables was a man with silver-dark hair and wearing what could only be described as a bargain bin suit. _

_Ralph wasn't clear what had started it all. But his worst student, would-be hood Tony Villicana had begun smarting off to the man in the suit._

"_Hey you, yeah I'm talking to you. You got a problem with me or something? What? You don't like the way I look?"_

_Ralph had called Tony to come check out the menu, but Tony, with his usual swagger, was smirking at the guy. Ralph had gone over and tried to placate Tony._

"_What?" Tony said. "Come on, this guy looks at me like I'm some kinda cockroach or somethin'."_

_Tony always did like to put on the brash accent typical of kids on the street. _

_More words were exchanged and Tony pulled out his switchblade. At the same time, the suited guy pulled out a gun. Tony backed off, pretending he meant nothing by it._

It was funny. Bill had always called Dad 'kid' in the same sort of tone as the girl had spoken to him. Eric shook his head. There was something oddly familiar about the girl too.

Back on the road an hour later, it was growing dark and the team were growing restless. Eric had volunteered to drive when their usual driver had called in sick with a migraine. He didn't mind driving. It helped him clear his head sometimes.

He turned on the radio, tuning in to an easy listening station.

'_**Believe it or not, I'm walking on air, I never thought I could feel so free he he'**_

"Oh, man, turn it off Hinkley. We don't wanna listen to that crap. That's old man," the team protested.

His parents had loved that song. He'd never really understood why. With a sigh, Eric leaned forward to touch the pad to change the station, but suddenly the radio seemed to take on a life of its own. The radio squealed with static. And it all seemed to happen at once. The electrics died and the headlights went out. The bus cruised to a stop.

Eric got out and opened up the panel to look at the engine. He had no idea what had happened and didn't know too much about engines.

"Anybody got a flashlight?" he asked. Silly question, he knew. These guys weren't know for their IQs after all.

"No, but I got a phone," one of the guys said. He handed it over to Eric through the window. Eric took it. But it was just the same as the electrics on the bus. The phone wouldn't work and there was no light. It was pitch dark.

"Does anybody's phone work?" Eric sighed. The answer was in the negative.

He looked at the guys, barely able to see their faces in the darkness.

"Well, look, I know there was a gas station back there about a couple of kilometres. I'm gonna walk it, see if I can find a payphone or something. Try and stay out of trouble until I get back, okay?"

Eric began walking along the road. There should have been lights of some kind along the highway but he only saw eerie blackness. He shivered. It wasn't a cold night, but ...

He couldn't have been walking very long when he heard the sound of a car. He smiled to himself, thinking he could wave it down. But just as the car reached him, he saw who was driving.

Her again.

"Problem?" she asked as she stopped alongside him.

"Yeah, our bus broke down. You got a phone I could use?"

The woman nodded and dug in her bag for the phone, handing it to him. Okay, he thought. Maybe what had happened back at the diner was just a misunderstanding. He opened the fliptop of the phone and frowned. The phone was dead.

Just as it had happened before, the radio suddenly gave a burst of static, then a line of a Shirley Bassey song played.

"_**It's all just a little bit of history repeating."**_

Well, that's weird, Eric thought. It was about to get weirder still. The car engine died and the electrics went out. Just like before. Eric was getting a sense of déjà vu. The woman turned the ignition, but nothing happened.

"What the h ...?" she said. Eric looked at her, but she wasn't even looking at him. Or even the car. She was staring out at the night sky. There were lights up in the sky. And there was no way they were weather balloons, or any strange atmospheric effect. The lights were spinning in the air.

Eric felt almost paralysed until the woman touched his arm. He looked down, startled. She was staring at him, her face ghostly pale in those lights.

"Get in," she practically screamed at him.

Eric dived to the other side of the car in a move that would have been the envy of his baseball team mates in college and got in. She locked the doors and tried the engine again, prepared to get them the hell out of Dodge.

"It won't work," she yelled.

"What the hell's going on?" Eric yelled back at her.

"What are you asking me for, kid? I don't know."

"Eric."

She stared at him. "What?"

"Not kid. Eric."

"Sarah," she said, grabbing his hand and shaking it. And it just seemed the most inane thing to do in a situation where they were both scared out of their wits. Eric was sure he would have laughed if he hadn't been frozen.

Suddenly, the locks clicked on the doors. Eric looked at Sarah. "Did you?"

She shook her head. "No, did you?"

"No way."

They stared out the windscreen at the lights as they appeared over the car, filling it with almost blinding light. Sarah put a hand over her eyes. Eric did the same. They stared as the lights moved off, only to be joined by a big one. Open-mouthed, Eric gasped as the light began to take shape.

It was a ship. A flying saucer. A UFO.

"What's happening?" Sarah muttered, reminding him of a favourite movie of his when he'd been a kid. Only the character she reminded him of had been a young Drew Barrymore. And this scene reminded him more of Close Encounters than E.T. He was half expecting the theme music to begin playing.

Squinting at the sudden brightness in pitch black, they watched as suddenly a beam of light shot down right in front of Sarah's car.

Suddenly the radio burst into life with sounds of old speeches.

"_The only thing we have to fear is fear itself." _

Eric shot a glance at Sarah, who was looking just as perplexed as he was. Then it seemed like the radio tuner was searching as it moved back and forth.

"You ... have ...nothing ... to ... fear. You ...will ... listen."

"Hiya kid," came a familiar voice from the radio. "Is this a blast from the past or what?"

Uncle Bill? Eric thought.

"Listen, kid, it's gonna be okay. I'll be down in a sec to talk to ya, okay?"

This was impossible. They'd found Bill's body. What on Earth?

The beam of light became brighter, blinding them for a second, forcing them both to blink away tears. Then the light was gone and in its place stood Bill Maxwell. At least, it looked like Bill Maxwell. Only he wasn't an old man anymore. He was ... he was aged about the same as when Eric had been a little kid.

Bill beamed as he approached them. The window rolled down on Eric's side.

"Uncle Bill?"

Sarah stared at him. "Uncle?"

"Had a feeling it would be you two," Bill grinned. "Yep, when the green guys started talkin' about choosing a new one, I knew it would be you. Hiya cutie," he said, grinning at Sarah. "Haven't seen you since your Mom died. Real sorry about that, by the way. Always was a better FBI agent than a father."

"What?" Eric said. Sarah sent him a look which said 'not now'.

"And you an FBI agent too. Talk about a chip off the old block, huh?"

Bill straightened. He seemed to be listening for something. "Ah, listen kids, I'd love to stay and chat, but, well, the old body's not what it used to be, know what I mean? But hey, the green guys have been good to this old man. I'm just gonna put this in the trunk, okay kids?" He held up what looked like a black box.

"The trunk?" Sarah echoed.

"Uncle Bill, what? What's going on?"

"Sorry kids, can't stay. But I can tell you this. You're in for a wild ride. The green guys, they've got a job for you. They picked you, well, because they picked me and your Dad a long time ago. And I know you'll do your Dad proud."

"Wait a minute? Dad?" What did his father have to do with all this?

"Ask your mom and dad, kiddo. They'll tell you what it's all about. And say hi to the Counselor. She loves me, I know she does." He turned, flashing a cocky grin, and went back to stand underneath the ship. The beam came down and he was gone.

Then the ship began to lift off and in a flash it was gone, as if it had never been. The locks released on the car and the electrics came on, as if there had been nothing wrong. Sarah looked at Eric, then got out as if she'd suddenly spotted a snake or got an electric shock.

"What the ... what in God's name was that?"

"You're asking me? And you're an FBI agent?"

"What's your point?"

"I wasn't making any point."

"So why'd you bring it up?"

"I didn't. Your father did."

"He's not my father."

"But he said ..."

"Bill Maxwell might have provided the genes, but he was no father."

"Okay, okay, don't get defensive. Geez."

"How the hell do you know him, anyway?"

"He was friends with my Dad. He always used to take me on fishing trips and stuff when I was a kid. Well, me and my Dad."

"And who's your Dad?"

"Ralph Hinkley."

"Don't know him."

"Then why'd you ask?" Eric glared at her. He had a feeling she'd asked because she was going to start doing some research into the possible connection between Bill and his Dad. He guessed she didn't know a lot about Bill Maxwell.

"So what did he put in the trunk?" Sarah asked.

"I don't know, but suddenly I'm not so sure I want to know."

"Well, I'm not going to look."

"It's your car, Ms FBI agent."

"Actually it's a government car. I was out on a case."

"Whatever!" Eric stalked over to the trunk. "You gonna open it or what?"

Sarah huffed noisily. She stomped over to the door and bent down. Eric got a glimpse of a very shapely ass. He heard the click of the trunk catch, then Sarah straightened up, staring at him.

"You were staring at my ass," she stated flatly.

"Was not," he denied quickly. A little too quickly.

"Were too," she retorted.

"Was not!"

"What are you? Five?"

Eric glared at her, then opened the trunk. He took out the box, looking for the catch on it. Somehow his hand must have touched it because it opened. He picked up what looked like some kind of long-sleeved t-shirt with a weird symbol on the front.

Sarah was staring at it as if it was something poisonous, screwing up her nose.

"That does it. I'm out of here."

Eric quickly stuffed the shirt back in the box, but he was too late to stop Sarah as she got in the car and started the engine.

"Hey wait," he said.

"No, way. You're on your own on this one, Hinkley." With a crunch of gravel, she took off, leaving Eric standing there.

With a sigh, Eric began walking back in the direction of the bus. He didn't realise that the box was still open and a book slid out, dropping onto the sand.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Ralph and Pam were watching television, curled up on the sofa together when they heard Eric's car pull up. His headlights flashed briefly in the front window of the living room as he parked in the driveway. Ralph glanced at the clock on the wall.

"He's late," he said.

"Maybe the bus broke down," Pam murmured.

"Wonder why he didn't call? He's usually so responsible about things like that."

Eric might be twenty-five, but he still lived with his parents. He was saving for a place of his own and since he didn't have a girlfriend at the present time, he wasn't too worried about living at home. And he had been brought up to be responsible, letting his parents know where he was at all times.

The slamming of the front door had the older couple looking up toward the living room. Eric came in, an odd expression on his face.

"Eric? Honey, what is it?" Pam asked.

"Uh, something weird happened out in the desert."

Ralph and Pam looked at each other, getting an odd sense of déjà vu.

"Weird how?" Ralph asked.

"You tell me, Dad. Uncle Bill said you'd know all about it."

Ralph frowned. "Uncle Bill?"

"It was so weird. Our bus broke down and not even our cellphones worked so I went walking to find a gas station, and then I met this girl and suddenly this ship came out of nowhere and there was Uncle Bill and he gave me this super suit and I know I'm not making much sense, but ..."

"Wait, a super suit?" Ralph was getting a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He glanced at Pam, who looked as if she was getting the same feeling. Then they saw the box under Eric's arm. The colour drained from his face. "Oh no."

"Dad?"

"Ralph," Pam wailed.

"I never thought for a second they'd choose him once they ... Pam, no!"

"Dad? I don't understand."

"Son, the suit gives you powers. Flight, speed, strength. There are other things, but ..."

"You mean like Superman? That's a comic book, Dad."

"I know, son. But I was chosen before you were born, and it now looks like they've chosen you."

"To do what?"

"Help the world. Help people." Ralph sighed. "That's how your Uncle Bill and I met. It was arranged, you could say. By, as your Uncle Bill called them, the green guys."

"Yeah, he said that when he appeared to me."

"He actually appeared?" Pam asked incredulously.

"I know it sounds incredible. But it was so real. And Sarah ..."

"Sarah who?" Ralph asked. "You've never talked about any girl named Sarah before?"

"Well, no, we just met today Dad." Eric gasped, remembering. "Oh my god, Dad, she's Bill's daughter."

"What?" Oh this was just getting better and better.

"I thought Bill didn't have anything to do with his daughter?" Pam said.

"Yeah, she said she didn't really know him. And get this. She's a Fed."

Ralph couldn't help it. He burst into hysterical laughter. Eric looked at his father, puzzlement on his face.

"Dad?"

Ralph took a while to stop laughing, then he looked at his son.

"Sorry, son, it's just ..."

There was a knock on the door. Pam looked at Ralph.

"Who could that be this late?" she said. But she went out to answer the door. She came back in a few moments later.

"Uh, guess you two know each other."

Eric stared at Sarah. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"You dropped your wallet in my car. I figured you might need it."

"Yeah. Thanks. Uh, so, I guess you should meet my parents. Ralph and Pam Hinkley."

Sarah nodded. "Nice to meet you both. Well, I've done my civic duty, so I'll get out of your way."

"Not so fast, young lady," Ralph said. "I understand you and Eric saw something unusual tonight."

Sarah balked, but not before giving Eric a look as if to say 'you told them?'. "We didn't see anything," she said. "Nothing at all. Just a hallucination."

"So your dead father didn't come down from a spaceship and give the two of you a super suit, and a mission to save the world?"

"What would you know about it?" she said, crossing her arms over her breasts.

"How do you think I met your Dad?" he said. "I was given the suit too."

Sarah snorted. "Yeah right." She held up her hands, waving them. "I don't want anything to do with this crazy shit, okay?"

"You were chosen for this Sarah. You and Eric. You don't have a choice."

"Yeah I do," she said, turning and walking out.

Eric ran after her. "You want to know what I think? I think you got scared."

"I'm not scared," she said, glaring at him.

"Right," he snorted. "I could tell that from how fast your tail lights were disappearing in the dark."

"Shut up. You don't know anything."

"Shut up? That's the best you got, Ms FBI agent?"

"Look, you don't get it, okay? I've been riding on the coat tails of my father's lousy reputation ever since I trained at Quantico. They all thought he was a nutcase."

"But now you know he's not."

"Yeah, like that'll help."

"So if it's so bad, why do you use the name?" Eric had seen her badge and knew she used the same last name as Bill's.

"Look, my mom had to take Bill to court years ago, and she went to all that trouble to prove he was my father, and she made sure the world knew it by changing my last name to Maxwell. I'm not going to undo all that hard work just because my old man was a nutjob. Okay," she sighed, "maybe not so much after all, but, you know, just because he couldn't be bothered trying to see me, I don't see why ..."

"That isn't true," Ralph told her, coming out to the two younger ones fighting. He had the impression that Sarah hid a lot of pain and hurt behind a brusque manner. But something in his son seemed to bring something more out of her. And he felt he owed her the truth. Bill had tried to be a father to the girl. He may not have been very good at it, but he had tried. "Your father did try to see you. Many times, in fact. But your mother would never allow it. And it was your father who insisted that your name be changed."

Sarah sighed. "Yeah, it's great to say all that, since they're both dead and therefore not here to defend themselves."

"Well, I can unequivocally state that what Ralph is saying is the truth," Pam said.

"Of course you would," Sarah snorted. "You were his friends."

"Actually," Pam said, "Bill Maxwell was not exactly my favourite person. Especially after all the scrapes he used to drag Ralph into."

"Pam!"

"Well, it's true, Ralph. You two got into so many scrapes with that suit I thought I might have to fight off a couple of lawsuits for a while there."

"Like what?"

"Well, how about the time we were meeting my parents and you couldn't control the invisibility?"

Oh yeah, Ralph thought, reddening. They'd been waiting for him at a restaurant while he and Bill had been practicing in the desert. He'd somehow learned to become invisible, but hadn't been able to control it and had had to go to the restaurant, in the super suit, but still invisible. He'd had to pretend to call Pam on the phone. When he'd suddenly become visible, he'd had to pretend to be advertising something. That suit had a lot to answer for.

"Invisibility?" Eric suddenly looked excited. "Superman never had that."

Ralph almost rolled his eyes. Eric had grown up reading the Superman comics and he'd become a huge fan of a long-running tv show as a teenager. It figured he'd be enthusiastic about having a power that Superman didn't have.

"Yes, son. Invisibility. And you can pick up visions. It's all explained in the instruction book."

"What instruction book?" Eric frowned.

Ralph looked at Pam, who looked at Eric.

"Just like his father," she sighed.

"What, Mom?"

"Your father dropped the instruction book."

"We had to, uh, wing it," Ralph said.

Sarah was still standing in the hallway, looking at all of them as if they were the aliens.

"Well, this is all great, but ..."

"Eric, if you've dropped the book, you two need to go out to the desert and look for it. As soon as it's light. I'd hate for anyone to pick it up."

"Yeah, sure, Dad."

"Hell no. No way," Sarah said. "I don't want any part of this."

"Sarah, this is the way it works. You could say you're the handler. You choose the missions. The fact that you're an FBI agent makes it easier to work out what you need to do."

"Forget it," she told Ralph. "I won't do it!"

"Then you have to give the suit back," Ralph shrugged. "They'll choose someone else."

"What if I don't want to?" Eric said.

"Look, the aliens explained it a long time ago. They need a team."

"Superman doesn't need a handler," Eric mumbled, sounding very much like a petulant teenage boy rather than the young man he was.

"Superman picks any old random thing," Sarah pointed out, surprising them all. "Besides, Superman's alter ego is a reporter. He knows what's happening in the city because he writes about it."

"So am I," Eric said. "Well, a sports writer."

"Figures," Sarah snorted.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Haven't you heard the expression that a man is judged by the company he keeps?"

"Meaning?"

"You were out with a bunch of jocks."

Eric glared at her. "So that makes me a jock? Listen, just because I played baseball in college, and could have gone pro if I hadn't torn my rotator cuff ..."

Sarah's face took on a faraway look. "Oh my god. That was you?"

"What? Huh?"

"You were pitching. I saw you get hit by that big burly guy." He'd been trying to catch the ball when one of the opposing team players had barrelled right into him. The man had been bigger than Eric and stronger, by the look of him. They'd later learned that it had been deliberate. The man was banned for life from any kind of competitive baseball. Sarah gave him a sympathetic look. "You were hurt pretty bad."

"You were at that game?"

Sarah shrugged. "I got dragged to it by an old boyfriend."

She wasn't going to tell him that she thought he was hotter than her old boyfriend had been. No way in hell.

Ralph decided this argument had gone on long enough. He figured it was up to him to be the voice of reason.

"Look, kids, don't make any decision right away, okay? Give yourselves time to process this. Sarah, go home and get a good night's sleep. Then tomorrow you and Eric can go look for the instruction book. Just don't make any decisions tonight. I know what you've seen tonight has come as a bit of a shock, but don't do something you might regret later on. Okay?"

Sarah looked at the older man. Father and son looked a lot alike. And she guessed since he knew about the suit and what it could do, it couldn't hurt to hear him out. She kind of liked the older man.

"Okay," she said softly. She turned back to Eric. "I'll come by about seven and we'll drive out to the desert and look for the book."

"I can meet you there," Eric said insistently.

"Do you have GPS in your car?" she asked.

"Uh, no."

"Then you won't know exactly where to look. At least I have a fair idea, since it was working right up until the electrics crapped out."

Eric nodded. It made sense.

"Well," Sarah said, looking a little uncomfortable. "I'll see you in the morning then." She turned to go. "Goodnight."

The family watched her go, then Ralph turned to his son.

"Well, she's a lot like her father, isn't she," he commented.

"I guess. I mean, you'd know, I suppose. You knew Bill better than me."

With a sigh, Eric went up the stairs to bed. Ralph and Pam locked up the house and went upstairs to bed. Pam lay next to him, looking contemplative.

"I feel a little bad for her," she said. "She's had a lot to deal with. And she has no idea what she's about to face."

"Well, they wouldn't have chosen her for this if they didn't think she could handle it."

"Oh, I know that. Don't get me wrong. But the fact that they chose now to recruit her and Eric ..."

Ralph shrugged. "It's just like when Bill and I were picked. Only we had the Cold War to deal with."

"You think the world is on the brink of war?"

"I don't know, Pam. I mean, when Bill and I first did it that was always something we had to face."

It was true. They'd always had had to deal with potential insurgence from Soviet spies. Maybe there were always going to be issues with terrorism. Certainly, America had been fighting a war with terrorism for the last ten years. And the thought that his son might have to deal with that was daunting. But Eric was the type of young man who believed in trying to make a difference. However he did it.

He knew one thing. There was one big difference between his situation with Bill and Eric's situation with Sarah. Eric and Sarah were attracted to each other, in a big way. He didn't have to be a rocket scientist to see the way they looked at each other.

"I just hope they don't let their feelings get in the way," Pam said, yawning sleepily.

"What do you mean, honey?" Ralph asked.

"Didn't you see the way she looked at him? She barely knows him but she looked at him the same way you used to look at me when we were dating." He felt her grin as she lay with her head on his chest. "Like you couldn't wait to get me into a bed and have your way with me."

"Still do," he grinned back.

"Prove it," she whispered, and he pulled her into his arms, laying a long, passionate kiss on her that quickly evolved into something else. It was a while before Pam got her breath back. She kissed him gently. "Still got it," she murmured happily, drifting off to sleep.

"Still got it," he answered.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Sarah pulled up in the driveway and sat on the horn. She sighed. It was seven, exactly the time she'd said she'd be here, and she'd hoped Eric would be outside waiting for her. When there was no movement from inside the house, she put the heel of her hand on the horn again, giving a long blast.

The door opened and Eric came striding out angrily.

"Do you realise it's seven o'clock in the morning? On a Sunday? You want to wake up the whole neighbourhood?"

She leaned out the window and glared at him.

"Well, excuse me for living, jock boy. I told you I'd be here early."

She gave up checking out his athletic form, noticing he had the box with him.

"What the hell did you bring that for?"

"My Dad thought it might be a good idea if we tried it out."

Sarah sighed. "Oh, he did, did he?" She sighed again. "Why me?"

"Well, don't get your panties in a bunch Princess."

"Don't call me Princess," she glared.

"You're the one acting all high and mighty like the little people aren't good enough for you," Eric said, sliding into the passenger seat.

"I don't act high and mighty," she told him. "I just like things the way I like them. Nice and simple, and straightforward."

Eric looked up, rolling his eyes. "So high maintenance."

Sarah reversed up the driveway and out into the street, driving off down the road. She was silent for a long while, except for the occasional heavy sigh. Eric finally became tired of it.

"Just what is your problem, anyway? You've acted like you've got a gigantic stick up your ass from the moment we met in the diner."

"Did not," she muttered.

"Yes, you did," he told her. "I mean, is it me, or do you just generally not like people?"

"I like people just fine. It's you I don't like," she told him, turning her head to glare at him.

There was the sound of a horn blaring and Eric glanced at the road.

"Will you concentrate on your driving?" he said.

"Yeah, right, concentrate," she said. "Considering all you want to do is aggravate me."

He was the most aggravating, annoying man she had ever had the misfortune to meet, she kept telling herself. Trouble was, he was also extremely good-looking and part of her wondered what it would be like if he would just smile at her. Sarah had been too focused on her career to pay attention to good-looking guys, let alone go out with them, and her social life was non-existent these days. Now with this over her head, it was looking like her social life would go from non-existent to permanently dead.

It was at least an hour before they made it out to the desert. Sarah glanced at the GPS. They were close to where the electrics had fizzled out.

"It should be somewhere near here," she said.

"Oh great," he said. "I'm glad you've got it pinpointed down to an exact science."

"Well, who dropped the instruction book, jock boy?"

"Don't call me jock boy, Princess!"

"Don't call me Princess, pinhead. You are such a geek!"

"Oh that's rich, coming from Ms FBI."

"Shut up!"

"You shut up!"

Sarah slammed on the brakes, lurching him forward.

"What the hell did you do that for?"

Sarah made sure the car was safely off on the shoulder and got out of the car. Eric got out the other side. She yelled at him from her side of the car.

"You are the most ... argh! I hate you!"

"Yeah, feeling's mutual Princess. God, why do you have to be such a beeyatch?"

"Why do you have to be such a pinhead, pinhead."

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? You really want to know? God, where do I start? How about this? My idiot father and your idiot father somehow meeting in the desert being thrown together over a stupid Superman suit."

"My father is not stupid. He's a high school principal."

"Oh yeah, that's a ringing endorsement."

"Well, what about your father, Ms FBI? Considering he was practically insane!"

"Oh don't get on your high horse, Hinkley. Considering you were apparently his favourite pseudo nephew."

"Pseudo nephew? What did you eat psychology books for breakfast? And I'm beginning to think you're jealous."

"Jealous? I'm jealous?"

"Because you had a lousy relationship with your father. Whereas we had a great relationship."

"Oh yeah, going out fishing. Great relationship."

"Jealous!" he said in a singsong voice.

"Oh don't give me that crap, Hinkley. Don't try and psycho-analyse me. The last person I would be jealous of would be you. I couldn't stand my father."

"Yeah, you hated him so much you followed him into the FBI."

"It happens to be a good profession."

"With lousy benefits."

"Unlike being a school teacher? Or a jock journalist?"

"That's sports writer to you Princess."

They kept circling the car, arguing back and forth. Sarah came around the front and Eric decided to change direction so that she would end up facing him. She glared at him.

"Argh!" she grunted. Eric grinned as she changed direction and started to walk around the car again. He turned and sped up his pace so he would meet her the other side. She screamed in frustration and began walking along the side of the road.

"Where are you going?"

"To look for the instruction book," she growled over her shoulder. "The one that you lost!"

Eric dove into the car and grabbed the keys. The highway might be deserted this time on a Sunday morning but he wasn't about to take that chance. She'd probably blame him anyway.

"Hey, wait up," he said. Sarah kept walking.

He got a good look at her ass, swaying from side to side in the jeans she wore. Damn, she had a nice figure. And she was beautiful when she was angry. He ran to catch up with her.

"Just what exactly were you doing in the desert last night anyway?" he asked.

"Chasing a lead on a case."

"What kind of case?"

"Does it matter?"

"Maybe it does to the green guys," Eric said. "My dad told me that's how he and Bill met. Bill was working on a case out in the desert."

Ralph had told him at breakfast earlier. Bill's partner had been murdered and had been used by the aliens to deliver the suit. Bill had been working on a case involving a terrorist group and a plot to assassinate the President.

"Well, trust me, my case is nowhere near as exciting," Sarah told him as they walked.

"Tell me."

"There's supposedly a cult or a commune operating out here."

"Why is the FBI involved?"

"Because we think they've been kidnapping kids from other states."

"Again, why is the FBI involved?"

"One of these kids was used to rob a bank in LA a couple of months ago. He was shot while trying to escape from the cops. And there's links to a terrorist group."

"That sounds like something the green guys would be interested in."

"Well, I don't care what the green guys are interested in. I just want to find this book and get the hell out of here."

"Sarah, come on. They chose us for a reason."

"Yeah, because my old man and your old man were idiotic enough to agree to the stupid thing in the first place."

"There's no need to be so offensive," Eric sniffed.

"There's no need to be so sensitive," she mocked him.

"You really are a bitch, you know that?"

"Up yours, creep!"

"That's all you've got? Great comeback, Princess."

Sarah turned on him, shoving him. "You know, I didn't volunteer for this crapshoot, so why don't you just lay off."

"Make me!"

"What are you, twelve?"

"You started it."

"Did not."

"Did so, liar."

"Don't call me a liar, jock boy."

Eric sighed. It was back to the name calling. He wasn't stupid. He knew she was attracted to him. About as much as he was attracted to her. He read stories online and he knew what this was. And there was only one way to resolve this particular UST.

Grabbing her elbows, he pulled her closer, knowing that was the one place she couldn't fight him. Even with her Quantico training. He pressed his mouth to hers, forcing his tongue in between her lips. Sarah moaned beneath him, her mouth tense at first, but then she began to relax in his grip. Eric dove in for a better taste and god, she might be obnoxious but oh lord she tasted so good. Maybe not as sweet as strawberries but as intoxicating as fine wine.

Just when Eric thought he'd got the best of her, he felt a sharp pain on his foot. She'd stomped on it. Moaning in pain, feeling the throb, knowing there would be a huge bruise tomorrow, he hopped around on one foot. He looked up at her, a wounded expression on his face.

"What was that for?"

"Just be glad it wasn't your balls, creep," she said.

He stared at her through squinting eyes. "This is because I kissed you?"

"Hello, trained FBI agent. Don't think I didn't read the signals."

He limped behind her as she started walking again. "What signals? All I did was kiss you."

"Yeah, and that's as far as you're going to get, Romeo."

Eric sighed and rolled his eyes. He decided the best policy was just to ignore it and move on. He turned and looked behind. The car was no longer visible.

"Don't you think we would have found the book by now?" he said.

"You tell me, jock boy. You're the one who dropped it."

"You're really not going to let it go, are you?"

"Really not."

Eric sighed and turned his eyes heavenward. Of all the people in all the world, you had to go and pick her to be my partner, he cursed the green guys silently. She was a nightmare. An honest-to-God nightmare.

"You know," he said, "maybe it's one of those things that disappears if it, you know, drops. I mean, my Dad dropped his instruction book and they never found that either."

"You really are a chip off the old block, aren't you?" she said.

"Yeah, let's remind me of that as much as possible," he said sarcastically.

After another half hour of walking Eric sighed. "We're not going to find it," he said.

"You're a whiner, aren't you?" she said.

"I'm stating a fact. How is that whining."

"Whiner!" she taunted.

"Harpy!"

"Creep!"

"Bitch!"

"Pervert! Don't think I didn't see you checking out my ass."

What, did the woman have eyes in the back of her head?

"You're obsessed with your ass, Maxwell."

"You're obsessed. Period. Hinkley."

"I'm going back," he said finally. "We're not going to find it."

"Fine. Give up. Whatever!"

Eric turned away from her and gave a short wave of his hand, more designed to be a rude gesture than anything else. Sarah stood on the roadside, hesitating. Then with a sigh, she started following him.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

They continued walking silently, the fight seeming to have gone out of them. Although if Sarah was honest with herself, she would have known it was because of that kiss. She hadn't had a lot of relationships. She'd been too interested in establishing her career in the agency to worry about dating. So no guy had ever got her so riled up before. No guy had ever kissed her like that before. And she had to admit, to herself anyway, that she liked it. In fact, if she hadn't got scared, she wouldn't have said no if he'd suggested they just got down and dirty right there.

Oh my god, what am I thinking, she thought. She sighed, staring ahead as she trudged through the dust, but her gaze just happened to fall on Eric's back, travelling down to the toned ass in the only slightly baggy jeans. She felt a slight tremor thinking about what else was encased in those tight jeans and what it could do to her. It sent an odd jab to her sex and her nerves jumped.

Why was she thinking this about a guy she hadn't even known for twenty-four hours? Was she insane?

But Eric was cute, she had to admit that. She let her gaze rove over his body once more, feeling a blush creep over her cheeks. Then she shook her head. She should not be having lustful thoughts about a guy she barely knew. He could be an axe murderer for all she knew. Although, of course, the green guys wouldn't have picked him for this duty if he had been, she thought with a little giggle.

Eric must have heard her. He stopped walking and looked around at her.

"Something funny?"

She couldn't help it. She just had to bite back. "Oh yeah, this whole situation is just laughable. I mean, what were the green guys thinking? Partnering me with a jock. Then again, I guess you don't need brains to wear the suit huh?"

"Do you like to piss everyone off or is it just me, Princess?"

"Oh no, pinhead, you're special!"

"Bitch!"

"Jerk!" Sarah sped up her pace, walking past him, nose in the air. She heard Eric growl in annoyance but ignored him, walking on toward the car.

As the vehicle came into sight, Sarah realised they weren't alone. There was another car parked behind it and two men were looking around the car. Sarah recognised one of them. He was one of the suspects in the case.

"Uh oh," she said to herself. This was not good.

Swallowing hard, she glanced in Eric's direction, then continued walking, watching the two men warily. They saw her and stopped what they were doing.

"Problem miss?" one of them asked.

He was tall. Probably around one point nine metres tall, with ebony black hair worn just below the ears. He had a fairly muscular build, almost burly. She didn't recognise him from the mug shots she'd seen but since he was with the other suspect then she guessed he was with the group. The other man was just as tall, but slimmer, with spiky blonde hair. They both had very attractive faces which would have easily graced the pages of a magazine. But the blonde one was dangerous. He was a suspect in a series of murders connected to the armed robberies she'd been investigating.

"Oh, we just lost something," she said, waving her hand airily. She glared at Eric. "Blame him," she added, causing Eric to scowl. "We were having a fight and he just tossed it out the window."

"What was it?" the blonde asked with an easy smile. "Maybe we can help you look for it."

Like she was going to fall for that. She scowled. "It was nothing. Just a little keepsake. Thanks, but we've already been looking for an hour. I'd say it's gone for good."

"Well, maybe if you hadn't been such a bitch, I wouldn't have tossed it," Eric said nastily. She glared again at him. Not helping, she thought.

"You're the one acting like a jerk," she told him, turning back to the two men. "Sorry, just a little tiff."

"I hear ya," the brunet said, grinning. "I know a lover's tiff when I see one. We were just driving by and saw the car. Thought you might have had car trouble."

"No, we're fine, thanks," Sarah said. She turned back to Eric. "Come on, honey," she told him. "Let's just go home and let these gentlemen get back to what they were doing."

Honey? Eric mouthed. She shot him a pleading look and glanced toward the car.

The blonde was looking at her, frowning. Sarah began to get the feeling like the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up. He was peering at her keenly.

"Don't I know you from somewhere?" he asked.

"I don't think so," she said, shaking her head. "I mean, I'm sure I would remember meeting someone like you."

Eric jangled the keys impatiently, unlocking the doors. "Well, come on, honey, let's go," he said.

The blonde had moved closer to her so he towered over her. Sarah wasn't easily intimidated, but she wished she had brought her gun with her.

"I swear I've seen you before somewhere," the blonde said.

His friend called to him. "Mike, let's go," he said. "Let's leave them in peace."

"Yeah," Mike said. "Okay." He backed off, letting Sarah heave a sigh in relief. She got in the passenger seat of car beside Eric, watching nervously in the rearview mirror as the two men got into the car behind them and drove off.

Eric turned to her. "Lover's tiff?" he asked.

"Shut up, Eric," she said, still watching the car disappear in the distance. "Just turn the car around and let's get out of here."

"Sarah ..."

"Eric, just drive for crying out loud!" She grabbed her bag from the backseat and dug in it for her phone, ignoring Eric as he started up the motor and put the car in gear.

"Reilly, it's Maxwell," she said as the phone was picked up. "You got any more mug shots from those armed robberies?"

Eric listened as she talked, giving a description of the two men they'd just encountered. He'd sensed her uneasiness when she'd been talking to the two men, and now he knew why. He wished he'd picked up on her signals earlier, especially when she'd told the men it had just been a 'tiff'. She wouldn't have said those things without good reason.

He remembered she'd told him she'd been out here looking into a case. The two men must have been connected to the case.

Sarah disconnected the phone and looked at him. "Pull into the diner. I need coffee," she said.

"Yes boss, anything you say boss."

Sarah rolled her eyes but said nothing. Eric continued to drive in silence until they reached the diner and he pulled into the parking lot. He started to get out and she put a hand on his arm.

"Put the suit on. Under your clothes. If your Dad's right about the suit, I think we're going to need it."

"Why? What do you think's going to happen?" he asked.

"Eric, don't ask so many dumb questions. Since I'm supposed to be your partner, or your controller, whatever, that makes me the boss of this outfit. So just do it."

Eric grumbled. He really hated bossy women. And she took the cake. Really, the only thing she had going for her was that she was cute. And it was the only thing making him do as she ordered right now. He grabbed the box and she glared at him.

"Are you really going to take that whole thing into the diner?" she said.

"Do you expect me to change out here?" he asked.

"Do you even have a brain in there jock boy or do you do all your thinking with your dick?"

"Well, excuse me, miss high and mighty, so goddamn perfect you never make mistakes."

"Shut up!" she yelled at him.

"You shut up!" he yelled back, aware of the glares they were getting from other people going into the diner. And it was still only ten o'clock in the morning.

Sarah bent and grabbed something from the back seat. "Put the suit in there, jock boy," she said, tossing him a briefcase. "Go into the bathroom and put the goddamn suit on under your clothes. And hurry up about it."

With a glare, swearing under his breath, Eric opened the box and stuffed the suit in the briefcase. He wandered into the diner after her, watching as she sat down, and immediately went to the bathroom.

"Paying customers only," the bored waitress at the counter muttered. She was a different one from the day before.

"I'm with her," he said, jerking his head in Sarah's direction.

The waitress grinned suddenly, making it obvious she'd heard them yelling in the car park. "Lover's tiff?"

Eric growled under his breath and stomped off to the bathroom. He walked into the nearest cubicle and locked the door, pulling his jacket off, then his shirt. He opened the briefcase and took out the shirt of the suit, glaring at it. He'd taken a brief look at it the night before, but it looked even worse in the daylight. It was fire engine red, with an insignia inside a white circle on the front. The insignia was some kind of weird design that he didn't get and didn't want to get.

"I am going to look like an idiot in this thing," he muttered, putting it on.

Immediately he began to feel an odd tingle up and down his spine. His father had told him the suit was what gave him powers, but he hadn't realised he'd begin to feel the power as soon as he'd started to put it on.

He pulled off his jeans and began to put on the pants, which were more like tights. He was going to be a laughing stock if any of his buddies saw this, he decided.

It was as he was fitting the last piece, the black cape, around his neck, that it happened. He stared in shock at the back of the door as an image appeared.

"What the f...?" he muttered.

The two men from before were in the image. The blonde was studying an image on an i-phone.

"I knew she looked familiar," he was saying. "She's a Fed."

"Yeah, I knew there was something weird going on with those two. Too cagey. What about the guy?"

"Dunno. Maybe it really was a lover's tiff."

"Too much of a coincidence. What does the boss wanna do?"

"Grab them. Can't take any chances."

"Maybe we should just kill them," the brunet suggested.

"Boss wants to talk to them first. Find out what they know. My girl at the diner says they just pulled in."

Eric blinked as the image faded. No wonder Sarah had been acting so nervous. He quickly pulled his clothes on over the suit and hurried out to join her.

"Sarah, we gotta go," he said. "They're coming back. They know who you are."

Sarah stared at him. "What?"

"I just got a ... well, I don't know what you'd call it ... vision, maybe. And they know you're a Fed. One of them said 'his girl' told him we were here. We have to go now."

Sarah nodded, tossing some money on the table for the coffees which the waitress had just placed on the table. The waitress stared at them.

"Going somewhere?"

"Sorry, we just realised we have an appointment we can't miss," Sarah said breathlessly.

Eric grabbed her hand and pulled her to the door. But they were already too late, he saw, as the car pulled into the parking lot and parked right behind Sarah's car.

"Shit!" he said.

He looked around frantically. There was only the door to the kitchen. Sarah stared at him helplessly. Holding her hand, he ran with her to the kitchen.

"Hey, you can't go in there," the waitress yelled.

Ignoring her, they ran to the back door, pulling it open, only to be faced by Mike, the blonde.

"Hiya cutie," he said.

Eric saw Sarah's eyes widen at the Uzi the man was holding. They were in trouble. Big trouble.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Sarah found herself grabbed harshly by the arm and pushed against the wall of the diner. She didn't dare look at Eric, but knew he'd been grabbed by the other one. Her face was pressed against the cold concrete, her legs spread. She had been through the drill many times and knew this was an exact position that would be difficult to get out of.

Mike was pressing against her back, running his hand along her side, obviously checking for a weapon. His movements were slow, deliberate, making her shudder in revulsion. His hand caressed her butt, brushing deliberately just below. From what her colleague had told her, Mike was also suspected of the rape and murder of a teller up in Bakersfield. But they'd yet to match forensic evidence.

She heard the clink of handcuffs and realised Eric's wrists were being cuffed behind him. Obviously Mike's companion was less inclined toward the same sort of crimes Mike was. She wondered if the man, who seemed to be younger, had killed anyone yet.

But she had to think about Eric. He wasn't part of this. And maybe if he could get away he could use the suit somehow.

"Leave him out of this. Please," she begged. "He's nothing to do with this."

Mike was relentless as he pressed up against her. She felt what was unmistakeably an erection cock pressing on her ass. He got off on this.

"Your boyfriend? Oh trust me, Princess, we need him to make sure you behave."

"Look, I'll do anything you want," she pleaded. "Just let him go."

"And have him call the cops?"

Mike's companion clearly was becoming impatient with him. "Mike, just cuff her and let's get out of here."

Sarah gulped as cold, hard steel bit into her wrists. She was pulled up roughly, a hand on her mouth. She bit down on one of Mike's fingers.

"Ahh. Goddamn bitch!" he said, wrenching his hand away from her mouth. He then slapped her hard across the cheek, making her ears ring and her vision grey out for a few seconds.

She felt herself dragged across the parking lot and pushed into the backseat of the car, pinned against the cool leather. She licked her already swelling lip where she'd bitten it, tasting the sharp iron taste of her own blood.

Eric was thrust in the front seat by Mike's companion and all she could do was stare helplessly at him. Eric didn't know what to do, even with the suit on and since she didn't know the suit's capabilities, she wasn't sure what to do either. All they could really do was wait it out until they could figure out a plan.

Sarah stared ahead, trying to ignore Mike, who had the Uzi pressed harshly into her ribs. She knew there was no point in asking them questions. They wouldn't tell her.

"Try anything, cutie," Mike was saying.

"As if I would with that in my ribs. Does it make you feel like a man, Mike? Does it make you feel powerful, knowing the only way you can have a woman is at gunpoint?"

"I can have any woman I want," he growled harshly.

"Yeah, what about that teller in Bakersfield? The one you raped and murdered."

He smirked. It looked incongruous on his handsome face.

"She wanted it."

"I'd love to see you put away," Sarah told him snidely. "Did you know they'd give you the chair for killing that girl? Oh wait, it's not the chair any more, is it? No, it's just the injection. Pity. I'd love to see you sizzle."

"Sarah, don't," Eric said softly. Mike grinned.

"Yes, Sarah, don't. You wouldn't want to piss us off, now would you?"

"Asshole," she spat.

"You've got a real mouth on you Princess. They teach you that at Quantico?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Not really," he said, leaning forward to claim her mouth with his, kissing her hard. Sarah resisted. His kiss was nothing at all like Eric's. Eric's had been sweet and soft, gently probing. This guy's was designed to show her who was boss. At the same time as he kissed her, he thrust his hand roughly between her thighs.

"Mike ..." his friend warned. "The boss won't like it if you damage her before he gets to look at her."

Eric felt sick inside as he helplessly watched Mike manhandle Sarah. He struggled with the cuffs, wondering how on Earth he was supposed to use the suit if he couldn't figure out how it worked. He might not like Sarah, despite his attraction to her, but he was damned if he was going to let this asshole rape her in front of him.

Mike's companion took one hand off the steering wheel and pointed a handgun at him.

"Try it, buddy, and she's dead."

Eric stared at the younger man helplessly. The man seemed to be a couple of years younger than him. He sat back, head against the headrest, wondering what to do. What was the point in being given the suit if he failed the first test, he thought.

Sarah was screaming and cursing in the back seat and Eric winced, his anger growing. No way was he going to put up with this.

"Come on," he screamed silently, raising his face toward the ceiling of the car and to the heavens. "Give me a break here."

But there was no inspiration. No sudden surge of strength. The only break they had was in the fact that they'd reached some kind of compound. The car was stopped and he was pulled out roughly. He didn't see whether Sarah was being pushed behind him. He felt himself thrust into a darkened room, falling to the floor. It was only when he felt Sarah falling on him that he realised she had been brought in with him.

"Sarah? Are you okay?" he asked when she'd finally rolled over. He could hear her sniffling slightly.

"Yeah," she said huskily. "I'm sorry I got you into this."

"I'm the one who's sorry," he said. "I should have been able to use the suit." He swallowed. "That guy ... did he ..."

"No. He tried, but ..."

"I'm going to kill him when we get out of this," Eric promised.

"No, you won't."

"He tried to rape you."

"But he didn't," Sarah told him softly. "I know guys like that. They get off on the power. He was trying to scare me."

"But didn't you say he murdered a teller in Bakersfield?"

"Well, he's the chief suspect."

"Sarah, you don't have to be so blasé about this."

"I'm not," she said, sighing softly. "Do you want to know why I became a Fed? And it wasn't because of my father."

"Why?"

"When I was just starting college, about the same time my mom died, I went into this bank and these three guys decided to rob it. We were all made to lie on the floor, but someone pressed the alarm and the cops were there in minutes. We were kept there for hours at gunpoint. Anyway, there was this one guy. He looked a lot like Mike, actually. He was only young. Maybe about twenty-two. And he just started talking to me. Just talking. It was his first job. Anyway, as the hours rolled on everyone got so bored and one of the older guys told the younger guy to start looking for another way out, since the cops weren't going to negotiate. And he made me go with him. I guess he wanted a hostage. Anyway, long story short, the guy tried to force me to have sex with him. He'd been manipulating me the whole time. And I decided I wanted to put away guys like that. So I decided to study pre-law, got top grades and applied for the FBI. When they found out my Dad was a Fed as well, I guess they figured I'd be a chip off the old block. So they accepted me."

"God, Sarah, I'm so sorry. It's no wonder," he added softly.

"No wonder what?"

"No wonder you're so cynical about men."

She was silent. Eric wondered if there was more to it, but he didn't dare ask her anymore. He sighed, still struggling with the cuffs on his wrists.

"Have you picked up any more of those ... you know, visions?"

"No. I'm not even sure how it happened the first time."

"Maybe you need to concentrate. You know, like Superman. Maybe it's like a muscle you need to exercise and train."

"I guess. Why can't I figure out the strength?" he said.

"I don't know," she sighed. "I wish we'd found the instruction book."

"Yeah, me too."

Eric wasn't sure if super-hearing was a part of the suit, but he heard footsteps long before the door to the room opened and it was flooded with light. A bald man smirked down at them.

"Well, look at you two." He turned to his companions. Mike and the other man came in and pulled them both up. Eric could see that Sarah was bruised and dishevelled, but otherwise unhurt. Mike leered at her.

"Don't you fucking touch her," Eric said, trying to lunge at the tall blonde. There was at least ten centimetres height difference between them, maybe more.

"Relax, buddy," the brunet said to him with a smirk at his boss. "You'll live longer."

Eric glared at him. "Screw you!" he said.

"Bring her," the bald man ordered. "And kill him. He's a nobody and of no use at all to us."

"Yes sir," the brunet said.

Eric felt a surge of anger, and something else, as he watched Sarah being taken away. She glanced at him, her mouth opening but she said nothing.

Dragged out a couple of minutes later, Eric tried to see where Sarah had been taken, but they were long gone. He glared at the brunet.

"If you're gonna kill me, just get it over with," he said.

The brunet smirked. "Eager to meet your maker?" he asked.

"Asshole."

Eric glared hatefully back at the other man. He had to find Sarah and help her before something worse happened to her. He again felt that surge and concentrated. Suddenly his wrists were free, the cuffs broken. Turning, he managed to push the other man into the wall, knocking him out, then sped off before anyone else saw him.

Only trouble was, once he got going, it was hard for him to stop. And at the speed he was going, his clothes were not going to survive. He stripped them off, ignoring the thought that he was going to look totally ridiculous in the super suit, running through the compound, searching for some sign of Sarah.

He tried to slow down when he realised he was about to crash into a wall.

"Oh, oh no," he cried out, crashing through the wall and staring in shock at the two men standing there.

Well, what d'you know, he thought. Lucky break.

Mike and the bald man stared back at him. Sarah was on a bed and there was an iv attached to her arm. Before the two men could move, Eric grabbed them and threw them across the room. He then went to Sarah and pulled the needle out of her arm as gently as he could. Then he lifted her in his arms and ran out the same way he'd come in.

The question now was, how did he get out of here? He couldn't steal a car. And he couldn't run with her in his arms. Sarah was incoherent and was definitely not up to walking. And there was absolutely no way he was going to try hitch-hiking in this ridiculous get-up.

His Dad had mentioned something that morning about being able to fly. Eric wondered if he should give it a try. But how?

Hmm, he thought. Superman was usually 'up, up and away'. Or was it three steps and launching himself into the air. Come on Hinkley. Think. Trouble was, he'd run out of time for thinking. There were men approaching. With very big guns.

"Sorry Sarah," he said, hoisting her in his arms. He ran three steps, just as he'd once seen Superman do in the animated series he'd watched when he was a kid, and launched himself into the air. For a moment he thought he'd made it, even if he was flying very shakily.

"Oh, oh nooo!" he cried out. Sarah was too awkward in his arms and he couldn't focus on holding her at the same time. He dropped like a dead weight, right in the middle of the desert, falling heavily to the ground. Sarah rolled away from him with a groan, but she seemed to be so drunk she didn't feel it.

Picking her up again, he glanced around. He was about a kilometre from the compound, which meant it wouldn't be long before the men came looking for them. He tried this time carrying Sarah over his shoulder, launching himself once more into the air.

That was better. He was no Superman and was very unsteady, but it helped with Sarah on his shoulder. Somehow, he managed to make it back home. At least, until he tried to stop. He landed with a clatter in the garbage cans.

"Damn!"

The door to the house flew open and Pam Hinkley came out.

"Mom, help! Sarah's been hurt."

"Ralph!"

Together they managed to get Sarah into the house. She was giggling drunkenly. Pam helped him settle her on the sofa while Ralph ran to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water.

"Sarah," Eric said. "Can you hear me?"

"Eric," she answered, opening her eyes a crack. Then she fell back, giggling. "You look silly," she laughed. "Cute, but silly."


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Sarah kept giggling.

"What's wrong with her son?"

"They drugged her. I think it might have been some kind of truth serum."

"She looks drunk," Pam observed.

Suddenly Sarah's face paled. "Ugh, I don't feel so good," she said trying to sit up. She fell back against the pillow and passed out. Ralph checked her over quickly.

"Well, I'm no doctor, but I think she'll be okay. Eric, what happened?"

Eric quickly told his parents everything that had happened from the time they'd left that morning until he'd left the compound.

"Well, you did better than me my first time flying," Ralph remarked, clapping his son on the shoulder.

"Yeah, I guess a life and death situation really makes a great incentive."

"I don't want you going back there again. Not until you learn to use the powers."

"I was useless Dad."

"I know, son. It's something you'll have to work at. Trust me, I didn't do so well my first time in the suit."

Sarah slept on, unaware of the conversation. Eric watched her, feeling so guilty that he hadn't been able to help earlier. She'd come very close to being killed.

"Why did they pick me, Dad?" he asked his father.

"Because you care son."

"But I was completely useless. I nearly got her killed."

"No, you didn't. You were both just in the wrong place at the wrong time. That's all. And you're fine. Sarah will be fine. I'm sure of it."

Eric sighed. Sure, he thought. We got lucky this time, but what about next time?

Sarah woke feeling like she'd swallowed sandpaper. Her mouth was dry and her head was pounding as if someone had set off a whole orchestra of percussion instruments in her head. She sat up, groaning.

Pam Hinkley rushed over, grabbing a glass of water.

"Here, sweetie, drink this. Sip it slowly."

"What happened?" Sarah asked, still trying to make sense of the jumbled up images in her head. She had the vague impression she'd been flying through the air, but that didn't make any sense at all.

"You were drugged. Ralph and Eric guessed they were trying to find out what you knew about the group."

Sarah's eyes widened as Pam's face came into sharp focus. "Eric, is he ..."

"He's fine," Pam soothed. "Here, have some more water." Sarah drank a little more. "He's more worried about you, actually. He told us what happened on that compound."

"Yeah," she said softly, trying to inch forward. She winced a little, feeling a twinge of pain. Mike might not have raped her but he'd been rough with her. "I, uh, I should go."

"Your car's probably still at the diner," Pam told her. "Ralph will take you home. You're in no state to drive anyway."

Sarah nodded. She got up with difficulty, feeling every bruise. So much for her Quantico training, she thought. First time in a violent situation since she'd graduated and her skills had been pretty much useless.

She sat quietly in the car as Ralph drove her to her apartment, staring out the window. Ralph stopped the car outside her building.

"Look," he said, "it may sound cliché but not everyone is born to be great, or a hero."

"I know. Sometimes it's thrust upon them."

"Sarah, you wouldn't have been chosen for this if they didn't think you could do it. But you and Eric need some time to uh, bond, I guess. Trust me, it wasn't always easy with your father. We didn't like each other very much at first."

"I know. It's not that. It's just ... I've heard so much crap about Bill Maxwell that I don't know what to believe."

"Believe this. Your father was a good man who wanted to do the right thing. No matter what it cost him. And he did regret not being able to get to know you. He used to say that he thought he should have tried harder to see you. To be a father to you. I bet he'd be proud of you. And what you've accomplished."

"I don't know," she sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if ... if I'll ever be good enough."

"Sarah, you're a bright, beautiful young woman. And I can see why Eric likes you."

"He doesn't," she said quietly, getting out of the car. "Thank you, Mr Hinkley. But the truth is, I'm not any of those things." She turned and walked away. Ralph sighed.

"You're wrong," he said to himself.

Sarah felt a lot better after a good night's sleep. She made it early to the office, forced to take a taxi into the centre of the city until she could get her car returned. It had been towed by the police, after they had been called about the kidnapping.

She was prepared to go through more mugshots to see if she could identify the other two men from the compound. But as she logged in and started accessing the files, she was given a message to report to the section chief.

Trudging up the stairs, Sarah walked into the chief's office, not even bothering to knock.

"You wanted to see me," she began, then noticing the brunet standing in the middle of the office. The same brunet from the compound.

"Maxwell, meet Jack Brody. Special Agent Jack Brody."

Sarah glared at him. "You bastard!" She turned and walked out again, fuming.

She had assumed he was younger than her, but he clearly wasn't. And now it seemed he was a Fed as well. How could she have been so stupid! She ignored the command of her chief to come back, walking back down the stairs and slamming the door to the office she shared with another agent.

It wasn't long before Brody followed her.

"Agent Maxwell, I think you and I need to talk."

"Oh I have nothing to say to you, Special Agent."

"Look, I didn't mean for any of that to happen yesterday. But I couldn't blow my cover."

"Well, whoop de doo."

"That isn't fair," he said.

"You let that ... that ... ugh ... creep ... manhandle me!"

"You're a trained agent, Maxwell. You should have been able to handle it. And by the way, dragging your boyfriend into that mess was hardly a wise thing to do."

"Oh, so you're an expert now? And fyi, he is not my boyfriend, okay? We barely know each other."

Brody dropped a folder on her desk. "I know. Eric Hinkley. Former varsity baseball star, forced to drop the sport professionally when he tore a rotator cuff, now a sports journalist. Just what were the two of you doing in the desert at nine o'clock in the morning? On a Sunday?"

"That's our business," she said.

"Not when it involves a federal investigation it's not."

"Fuck off, Brody. We were there on personal business, not federal business."

"You're telling me you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? I don't buy that."

"It's the truth. How was I to know your 'friend' would recognise me?"

"From what I hear you've been trying to pin him down for two months on that murder in Bakersfield. He may be an asshole, but he is not stupid."

"I work in robbery-homicide. It's my job to put killers like him behind bars."

"Yeah, well don't let the blonde good looks fool you. Mike Rogan is as smart as they come, and twice as lethal. As you found out yesterday." Brody sighed. "Look, I've been working undercover in that place for six months. Yesterday you came very close to blowing it for me, coincidence or not. I'm asking you to stay away from the case."

"I can't do that. Like you said, I've been trying to pin down Rogan for two months for that girl's murder. And I aim to get him."

"You're making this personal."

"The guy was going to do the same thing to me," Sarah told him evenly. "Of course it's personal."

"Sarah ..." he sighed.

"Oh, so we're on a first name basis now?"

"I'm only trying to help. Look, I realise you got into a tough spot yesterday, maybe not of your own making, but I am asking you again to stay away from this. For your sake, as well as your ... uh ... friend's." He glanced away. "There was talk that he showed an, uh, well let's just say an unusual amount of strength, even for a former varsity baseball player. He even managed to knock me out and I'm a big guy."

Sarah had a feeling of foreboding. Was Brody telling her that Eric was under suspicion for using the super suit? She needed to talk to him. And fast. She said nothing to Brody though.

"For what it's worth," Brody said as he turned to leave, "I'm sorry you got caught up in that yesterday. I did my best to stop Mike. Please believe me."

"Whatever!"

She turned away, dismissing him, then picked up the phone and dialled Eric's paper.

"Sports section. Hinkley."

"Hello?"

"Hinkley, get your ass out to Centennial Park. And you better be there in the next five minutes or your ass is grass, got it?"

"I have a deadline."

"This is more important," she snapped. "Or do you want both our heads on a platter over yesterday's little stunt?"

Eric suddenly sounded very nervous. She told him to meet her at the fountain. He stammered that he'd be there and hung up. Sarah left the office, glad the park was only a block away from her office. Eric's was on the other side of the park, also a block away.

She stood by the fountain, getting the feeling she was being watched. She glanced at her wristwatch. Eric was late. With a sigh, she started digging in her pocket for her cellphone, realising it had been one of the things left behind in the diner. She looked up to see Eric running toward her.

"I said five minutes, Hinkley, not fifteen," she hissed.

"Sorry. I told you I was on deadline. My editor needed the copy."

She growled. "And I told you this was more important!"

"You know, Clark Kent doesn't get treated like this," Eric complained.

"Yeah, well Clark Kent didn't just blow his cover yesterday. You've had the suit less than forty eight hours and we're already under investigation."

"What? How?"

"The guy yesterday? The brunet? He's a Fed. Undercover." She quickly explained about Jack Brody.

"Oh, shit!"

"Yeah, precisely."

"So what do we do?"

"I have no idea!"

"You're supposed to be the brains of the outfit," Eric pointed out. "I'm the one who apparently only has my brain in my dick, remember?"

"Asshole!"

"Bitch!"

"Listen, Hinkley, we are in a world of trouble here. Brody's already been questioning me about what you did. And he knows who you are."

"So you're dropping the case?"

"Hell no. Like I said, I became an agent precisely because of guys like Mike Rogan. And I'm going to put that bastard away if it kills me. Besides, the green guys wouldn't have picked that precise moment, at that precise location, if they didn't want us to go after these guys."

"I thought you wanted nothing to do with this," Eric pointed out.

"Look, the suit is ridiculous, but it's got its uses. That's if you can ever get the hang of the powers. And that's what we need to do now. How soon can you get away from work?"

"I don't know. Not 'til maybe four or so."

"That'll have to do. Call your Dad. He's had some experience with this, and I think he can help us."


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Sarah was packing up to leave for the day when Brody walked in to her office.

"Leaving early?" he asked. "From what I heard about you, you're a workaholic."

"And you'd know."

He put something down on her desk. Her i-phone and her car keys.

"I parked your car out back. You don't have to thank me," he told her.

"Asshole!"

"You know, you and Eric Hinkley make a cute couple. You certainly sound alike. He kept calling me asshole too."

That reminded her that Brody knew or at least suspected that Eric was not what he seemed. Sarah sighed as Brody smirked.

"Do you actually want something or are you just here to piss me off? Because it's working!"

"Geez, do a girl a favour and all I get is abuse."

"Well, it was your fault my car was towed."

"Hey, I didn't have a choice. Not if I wanted to protect my cover."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Fine. Whatever!" She grabbed her keys, phone and bag and brushed rudely past him.

"Have dinner with me," he said.

"No!"

"Why not?"

"I don't date assholes! Or fellow agents."

"I heard you don't date. Period! Or is it Hinkley you're more interested in."

"Please! He's a jock! I don't date jocks either."

"Could have fooled me from the way you two were arguing yesterday."

"Brody ..."

"Maxwell ..."

She growled. What had she done to deserve this?

"Look, I thought we should talk about the case," Brody said. "Compare notes."

Sarah bit her lip. Brody did have the inside track. But was it really about sharing information or was he trying to wheedle more information out of her. She looked at him. He was giving her what could only be a puppy dog look.

"Aren't you supposed to be undercover?" she asked.

"I had some business to take care of," he answered, with a meaningful look at her. "And some damage control."

"Fine." She turned and walked away from him.

"Come on, Maxwell, it's just dinner."

"Dinner always leads to something else."

"Like?"

"Like high expectations, leading to disappointment."

"How do you know if you don't give it a chance?" he asked, stopping her from walking out. "Come on Maxwell. Or are you scared of taking a risk."

"I'm not scared," she denied.

"Then prove it. Have dinner with me. Eight. I'll even let you pick the place."

Sarah sighed, rolling her eyes. "All right. Fine. Eight. My apartment. And I like Thai. If we're going to be discussing the case I'd rather it be somewhere private. And you try anything Brody, I'm going to kick your ass from here to the Nevada desert. Got it?"

Brody smiled – a toothy grin that was so bright it would probably light up the whole west coast.

She made it out the door just in time to meet Eric and his father.

"Let's go," she said.

"Where, exactly?"

"I don't know," she said, glaring at Eric. "Why aren't you wearing the suit?"

"It's under my clothes," he told her. "Dad, where do you think we should go?"

"I know a place. Bill and I used to go when we were practicing with the suit."

"Thanks for helping us, Mr H," Sarah said. She caught the nostalgic grin on his face and frowned. "What?"

"Tony and the gang just used to call me Mr H."

"Tony?"

He nodded. "Tony Villicana, Rhonda, Rodriguez. They were students of mine."

"Wait, wait, wait, Tony Villicana used to be a student of yours? He was like my favourite teacher in high school."

Ralph frowned, then remembered. "Hmm, I forgot Tony went into teaching."

"He used to talk about the teacher who inspired him to help other kids like himself. I mean, yeah, he was kind of rough around the edges, but everybody loved him. We were all sorry to hear about his wife ... oh my god, that was Rhonda."

"Help me Rhonda," Ralph smiled. "That's what they used to call her back in that school."

"Why would they ... oh," Sarah said, getting it. Rhonda had a reputation for being 'easy'. Tony's wife had died of breast cancer when Sarah had been entering her senior year. She remembered. Tony had been devastated. He'd taken a few months off teaching to nurse Rhonda through the last months of her life.

"What's he doing these days?" she asked.

"Well, Rhonda was writing a novel and he finished it after her death. It made the New York Times bestseller list six weeks straight."

"Wow!"

Eric was frowning at them. He hadn't expected Sarah and his father to bond, especially over an ex-student of his Dad's. This was not good at all. He continued to watch silently as Sarah and his father chatted back and forth. For some reason, Sarah seemed softer, warmer, around his father. He wished she was like that around him.

Oh my god, am I jealous? he thought. He shook himself mentally, deciding he was most definitely not jealous.

Sarah shook him. "Hey jock boy, you awake?"

He growled at her, but said nothing. Sarah Maxwell was a gigantic pain in the ass. No matter how cute she was.

"You kids aren't going to start fighting again are you?" Ralph said with an amused smirk.

"Dad, come on," Eric said, exasperated.

"Sorry, son, I think it's cute, really."

Eric growled again. The two of them squabbling like teenagers was definitely not cute!

Ralph grinned at his son in the rear view mirror. He'd only ever seen Eric riled up over a girl once before and that hadn't ended well. Didn't he know that the constant arguments were just foreplay? Even he could tell there was some sexual tension going on between the pair, even if they refused to admit it to themselves.

He stopped the car and got out. They were in another part of the desert – an area where he and Bill had often come out just to practice. Bill could be exasperating at times. Gruff, abrasive. Bill had been old school. The kind of man who Sarah would probably have accused of being sexist, or chauvinistic. People might have thought of him as rude, and Ralph had to admit there were times when Pam could quite cheerfully have throttled Bill, but it was just his manner. He had a stressful job and having their mission thrust upon them hadn't helped.

"Okay, kids, let's get to work. Eric, I think you should practice the flying first. Now I know it's the hardest one. I used to do the one, two, three steps and take off, so just start with that."

He watched as Eric pulled his clothes off, adjusted the black cape and turned to his father with a pained look. Sarah looked exasperated.

"Come on, Eric. The sooner we can get this down, the sooner we can get the bad guys."

"I hate you," he growled.

"You know, that would sound so much better if you weren't wearing the jammies. Hop to it, Hinkley."

Ralph grinned at her as Eric gave a long-suffering sigh, muttering something about bossy women.

"You know, your Dad used to call them jammies too," he said.

Eric took off, but didn't get far, landing with a crash in the brush. He dusted himself off and tried to take off again, swearing and cursing under his breath. Sarah watched for a few moments, then turned to Ralph as soon as it looked as if Eric was going to stay in the air.

"Tell me more about him. About the Bill you knew."

"Well, Bill was the type of guy who, well put it this way, not everyone liked him or understood him. That was just his manner. I mean, he was very much a man who liked things his own way."

"You mean, a manly man."

"I suppose. But if he cared about someone, really cared about someone, then he was the kindest man you'd ever want to know. He'd look out for them. I know he tended to rub Pam up the wrong way sometimes, but I guess he was just from an age when women didn't have the big corporate jobs and Pam was more or less just starting out in law. I mean, we'd argue a lot. Like I say, Bill liked things his own way."

They were distracted by Eric yelling as he crashed into the brush.

"Damn!" he said.

They both went over, helping him to his feet. Eric shook them off.

"Try and concentrate. You've got to remember to keep a balance in the air," Ralph told him.

"And how the f ... heck am I supposed to do that?" Eric asked.

"You'll learn."

"Yeah, it's not like Superman knew instantly how to fly," Sarah smirked.

"You're a geek, Maxwell, And you're obsessed with Superman."

"Better than being a dork, Hinkley. And trust me, you look like a dork in those jammies."

"Yesterday you were saying I was cute," he retorted.

"I cannot be held responsible for anything I said while under the influence," she shot back.

"Whatever, Princess," he snorted. "But I have it on record that you said I was cute."

"Please, I can barely stand to look at you most of the time, jock boy."

"All right, all right," Ralph said, holding back the laughter as he thrust his hands in the middle of them to call time out. "Eric, get back to work."

Sarah smirked at Eric. "You heard the man, jock boy."

Ralph knew from the look on his son's face that Eric wanted to strangle Sarah right then. He chuckled softly. It wouldn't be long before something happened between them. It was bound to with the way the sparks were flying.

He turned and watched his son for a while, then suggested he try the strength and speed. Eric took off running.

"So, you were saying? About my Dad?"

"Bill wasn't the easiest guy to work with, but we had some good times." He chuckled. "One time he was hypnotised and every time the word scenario was used he'd go into a trance. And Bill was rather fond of that word. Pam and I had so much fun with that."

"I bet he didn't hear the end of it," Sarah laughed.

"You're right, he didn't." They both laughed for a while. Then Sarah sobered.

"Mr H, I wanted to apologise. I was rude the other night. To you and Mrs H."

"Oh, I don't know. You and Eric had both had a pretty big shock. I mean, it's not every day aliens come from outer space to give you a mission to save the world."

Sarah smiled. Ralph returned it. She had such a pretty smile.

"Eric's lucky," she said. "To have had such great parents."

He caught the wistful note in her voice, but said nothing. Deep down, he realised that Sarah was actually very lonely.

He turned back to Eric, watching and guiding his son, using what he had learned with the suit all those years ago. He was glad that he could at least help in this way. He was sure Bill, too, if he'd been alive, would have been out here helping just as much. He had a lot of fond memories of Bill. They might have bickered from time to time, but Bill's heart was in the right place.

It was almost seven when Sarah sighed.

"I have to get back to the city. I have an appointment."

"With who?" Eric asked, his expression dark.

"None of your business," she snapped back."Do you have to know every aspect of my life?"

"Well, excuse me, Princess!"

"You know just because I've been lumbered with you, it doesn't mean I owe you an explanation for everything I do. Unless you're just jealous?"

Eric snorted. "Jealous? Of you, and whoever? Yeah, sure!"

"Kids, that's enough," Ralph interjected, and the expressions on their faces clearly showed they did not like being called 'kids'. He sighed. If they didn't do something about this sexual tension between them he swore he was going to knock their heads together, or lock them in a room somewhere until they acted on it.

Sarah quickly apologised to him, but continued to glare daggers at Eric. He glared back at her, refusing to say another word.

Ralph dropped Sarah back at the office so she could pick up her car. It was just on seven forty, giving her twenty minutes to get back to her apartment, change her clothes and make sure the place was tidy.

She wasn't sure why she had decided to keep it from Eric that she was seeing Brody. Part of her, she supposed, wanted to protect him. And she just knew that Brody was going to be asking questions about Eric. About their relationship.

She made it home with ten minutes to spare, relieved that traffic had been light, and dashed around tidying up, or rather, tossing things that weren't in their place in the closet. Right on eight, the intercom downstairs buzzed. She picked up, hearing Brody's voice, and buzzed him in.

He knocked on her apartment door a few minutes later and she let him in. He was carrying bags of Thai food.

"Special delivery," he smirked.

Sarah just looked at him, feeling an odd tingle when he looked her over. She had changed into jeans and a loose top which bared one shoulder. He had also changed into jeans and an oversized shirt. He placed the food on the table and began to unpack it while she brought out plates and cutlery.

"So," she said, sitting down finally. "What did you want to talk about?"

Brody began telling her about the compound and the group. She had been right. They were linked to a terrorist group. But instead of planting explosives and generally causing mayhem, they were into a more subtle form of terrorism, using cyberspace.

"If they're using things like the 'net to attack, why don't they just break into bank accounts that way? Why rob banks?"

"Well, for one thing, it's easier," Brody said, chewing on his chicken and rice. "Banks these days have a lot of firewalls and it can take days just to get through the firewalls. Besides, the boys get antsy."

"Why are they taking kids off the street?"

Brody shrugged. "Think about it. Most of the kids are runaways, drug addicts. This gives them a whole other purpose."

"One which involves killing people. What about Rogan? What's his deal?"

"I don't know. He doesn't talk about himself much. But you are right. He did kill that teller in Bakersfield. He's bad news, and the best thing you can do is stay away from him."

"I can't do that," Sarah told him.

"Because it's personal now? You know an agent can't afford to let their personal feelings get in the way of the job."

"I know that."

"But you want Rogan because of what he did to you."

"Put yourself in my shoes, Brody."

"I can't," he smirked. "I wear size fourteens."

"You are not as cute as you think you are, Brody," Sarah growled. She studied him for a moment. "How did you get into the group?"

"Well, let's just say I look a lot younger than I am. All that clean living."

"Funny!"

They continued to talk, unaware of the time passing until there was a knock on her door. Sarah frowned and went to answer it, shocked to see who was in her hallway.

"Eric? What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk," he said, walking in. He saw Brody and growled. "What's he doing here?"

"We were talking about the case," Sarah told him, frowning at the note of jealousy in his voice. "And how did you get in?"

"Waited downstairs until someone let me in," Eric returned, glaring daggers at Brody.

Brody just smirked and got up. "I should be going anyway," he said. "Want some help with clean up?"

"No, I've got it. Thanks."

Brody pulled out a card, handing it to her. "Here's my number. Call me if you need anything," he said. He glanced at Eric, pausing at the door. "By the way, thanks for the concussion."

Eric glared up at him, feeling like a midget compared to Brody. "Don't mention it."

Brody chuckled, clearly amused with Eric's jealousy. "See you around Maxwell."


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Sarah began picking up the takeout containers and dumping them in the garbage. Eric grabbed the dishes and piled them up, taking them to the kitchen to stack in the dishwasher.

"What are you doing here, Eric?" Sarah said, bending over as she started tying up the trash bag.

"You already asked that question."

"And I want a straight answer. Instead of 'I just wanted to talk'."

"I did want to talk. How can you trust that guy?"

"Brody? Is there a reason I shouldn't?"

"He's working with the bad guys!" Eric pointed out.

"And that makes him a bad guy? I told you, he's undercover."

"That doesn't mean a damn thing."

"Eric, for Pete's sake!"

"You like him," Eric accused.

"Is that a crime? He's a fellow agent."

"You had dinner with him."

"It was business!"

"In your apartment!"

"It was more private than a restaurant."

"You invited the guy into your home."

"Eric why are you acting like this? I've known you forty-eight hours, yet you're acting like a jealous boyfriend!"

"I am so not jealous!"

"So are!"

"All right, fine. I'm jealous. Happy?"

"Ecstatic!" she said dryly.

"Why do you have to be ... okay, I know why, but I'm not one of those guys, okay?"

"No, you're just a jock who ..."

Eric had had enough of this. Especially of her calling him 'jock boy'. He couldn't think of any other way to shut her up, so he pushed her against the counter and laid one on her. He thrust his tongue in between her full lips, coaxing a response out of her.

When the kiss was over they stared at each other for a long moment, then Sarah pulled him into her arms, kissing him back just as passionately. Still kissing, her spun her around, walking her backwards out of the kitchen and into the living room, pushing her up against the wall.

"Eric," she moaned, breaking the kiss once more, just long enough to grab handfuls of his shirt. Eric heard something tear, but he didn't care. He pulled at her top, lifting it, eager to get his hands on her warm skin. Sarah was pulling at his buttons, almost tearing them in her haste to get his shirt open. He heard buttons popping and one fell on the wooden floor somewhere.

Pausing, Eric looked at her, panting breathlessly. "Bedroom?" he asked.

She nodded her head to a door behind him. Eric took that as assent and he grabbed her hand, pulling her into the room. He turned around once he reached the bed, letting her push him backwards onto the mattress. She lay over him, kissing him again.

He pulled her top over her head, then moved his hand down to her jeans, opening the zipper and pushing them down her thighs. Sarah, meanwhile, was struggling with his own jeans. He rolled her over onto her back, then sat up, pulling off his jeans. Just as he was about to lie on top, he saw her wince.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's nothing. Please, Eric, I ..."

But Eric didn't believe it was nothing. He wondered if he'd hurt her. Then he saw the purple bruises that her make-up had been covering up all day. Especially the one on her face. He let his eyes wander down her body, realising she had a few more bruises. The worst were ... Eric was suffused with anger, seeing huge bruises on her inner thighs. One even almost resembled the shape of a man's hand.

"That bastard," he growled.

But Sarah seemed upset more by his reaction to it than the bruises.

"Eric, please, don't."

He gently brushed the loose tendrils of hair away from her face.

"Sarah, I can't help it. When I think about what that guy did to you ..."

"I'm guessing he had a few himself after you threw him yesterday," she said softly. "Eric I ..."

"We shouldn't do this," he said. "Not while you're so bruised."

"Are you sure it's only for that reason?" she asked, hurt in her eyes.

"Sarah, I don't want to hurt you."

"It's okay," she sighed. "I understand."

"No, you don't," he said. He took her hand, placing it on his crotch, where his boxers had tented out. "That's how much I want you. That's how attractive I think you are. But I'm scared of hurting you right now. If I'd known how bad the bruises were, I wouldn't have done this. And not for any other reason except that."

She looked away from him, turning her head, her eyes filling with tears. Eric tried to pull her close but she resisted.

"Hey, what is it?" he asked.

"No one's ever said that to me before. The last guy I dated, he ... he told me I was ... frigid."

"Are you kidding? The way you kissed me? The way you fight with me? That guy didn't know what he was talking about. You are most definitely not frigid." He tried again to pull her into his arms, and this time she didn't resist.

She lay with her head on his shoulder. Eric pulled the covers from beneath them. He could wait, he decided. She would be worth it. He gently stroked her arm, feeling her relax in his embrace.

"Sarah, is this why you keep men at arm's length? I mean, I know what you told me, about that guy when you were eighteen, but ..."

"When I was a kid I used to get teased. A lot. And my last boyfriend used to put me down a lot."

"Well, he's a loser," Eric told her.

"I don't know," she sighed. "People put you down enough, you start to believe it."

"You're smart, beautiful, funny. And everything I like in women. Plus you drive me crazy. That's an added bonus."

He felt her smile against him and he knew he'd got her with that one.

"Dork," she said.

"I know," he said with a long-suffering sigh. Then he grinned. Sarah settled against him and he lay awake until he heard her deep and even breathing, indicating she had drifted off to sleep.

Sarah woke early from the deepest sleep she had had in years. She opened her eyes to find Eric sleeping beside her, his arm lightly around her waist, as if afraid to be too heavy handed. She felt warm and safe, without that feeling of being overpowered. She smiled as she looked him over. He was so cute when he was asleep. Aw hell, she thought, he's cute, period.

Sliding out of bed, she tiptoed out of the bedroom to shower. It was six-thirty when she came back in, dressed and ready for work. She would grab breakfast on the way. But she didn't want to leave without saying goodbye.

She sat on the bed and Eric came awake with a start. He blinked, looking a little disoriented.

"Hi," she said softly.

"What time is it?" he asked, as he slowly began to realise where he was and what had happened the night before.

"It's six-thirty," she whispered. "I have to be at work early for a briefing. Can you get out of work?"

"Um, I guess I could say I'm working on a story," he said.

She nodded. "Meet me at say ten? We need to talk about what we're going to do. Did you bring the suit with you last night? I mean," she said with a grin and a wink, "it was fairly obvious you weren't wearing the jammies under your clothes."

"Ha, ha, Ms FBI, very funny."

"I thought so," she answered smoothly. "So, ten?"

"Yeah."

"Good." She stood up. "I left a key on the sideboard. Don't worry about tidying things up, or anything. It's a miracle this place is ever tidy."

He grinned. "Born slob huh? I guess all the secrets are coming thick and fast now."

"Yup. Sure you want to go down that path with me?"

"Well," he drawled, "it's a doity job, but someone's gotta do it."

"That is a terrible Cagney imitation," she retorted.

"Who said I was imitating Cagney?" he asked.

Sarah laughed. She turned to go, then hesitated, thinking. He had been so good to her last night and she didn't want to go back to the awkwardness, or the fighting. She returned to the bed and leaned down, kissing him softly.

"Thanks for last night," she said shyly, turning away again.

Eric stopped her before she could get a couple of steps toward the door, grabbing the collar of her jacket and pulling her down for another kiss.

"You are so bad," she told him.

"Bad to the bone," he murmured.

"I gotta go," she sighed reluctantly. "If I miss the briefing the chief will have my head."

"Nope, that pretty head's all mine."

"Dork," she chuckled, kissing him once more, then getting up before he could stop her. "'Bye."

The briefing was long and boring. She was itching to get to work on the case and she knew from what Brody had told her that something big was going down in the next two days. She hoped that Eric could somehow figure out a way to get another of those visions he'd had on Sunday.

Before she left, telling her colleague she was going to check out a lead on a case, she went down to the property room, speaking to the clerk there.

"Can I see property id 1138?" she asked.

"The Bakersfield case? What do you need that for?"

"I just need to see a piece of evidence," she told him.

Brody had told her he hadn't been on the job that day. If he had, he would have found a way to stop Rogan from killing the teller. But he had been out of state that day, 'recruiting' as the boss, Alexander had put it.

The gang had been interrupted in the midst of robbing the bank and Rogan, who had been leading the gang, had decided to take the girl as a hostage when they'd fled the scene. The girl's hands had been tied behind her with the silk scarf she had been wearing as they'd raced off in a van. Rogan had then raped her in the back of the van, then strangled her with the scarf. The girl's body had been dumped five kilometres from the bank.

One very important piece of evidence had been left behind. The scarf. Sarah checked it out of the property room, leaving it in its envelope. She was hoping Eric might be able to use the suit to pick up something from the scarf.

She knew they would wonder what she wanted with the scarf, but she couldn't help that. Getting the scarf to Eric was more important.

Eric was waiting for her outside the building.

"Sorry I'm late," she said.

Eric smiled at her. He knew something had changed after what had happened between them the night before. She had clearly told him a lot of things she'd never told anyone else and it felt good to know that she'd confided in him. He decided he liked seeing this friendlier side of her. Especially the way she smiled at him. It was such a pretty smile.

"So where are we going?"

"Somewhere quiet where we can use the suit without being seen."

"I know a place," he told her, taking her hand.

They walked for a little while until they came to a park about four blocks from the city's centre. There was a small, shaded area.

"No one comes here," Eric told her. "I used to come here all the time when I was a kid and I'd had a fight with my Dad."

"I somehow can't imagine you having a fight with your Dad," she smiled. "You two seem to get on so great together."

"Yeah, now we do. But trust me, we've had our moments. No family is perfect you know. We all have our ups and downs."

Sarah grinned at him. "You're telling me."

Eric pulled off his shirt, glancing around. It had been a while since he'd been to this secluded area of the park, but he was fairly confident no one would look for them here. He had the suit on underneath.

He kept his jeans on, still feeling self-conscious. He knew now why his father had never talked about. Never mind the fact that the green guys had sworn him to secrecy. Or maybe they'd made his parents forget? He was never quite clear on that. It didn't matter.

Sarah twisted the rubber band on the sealed envelope she'd brought with her. Eric worried a little that she'd taken this from the evidence locker, but she didn't seem too concerned about it. She shook the envelope and dropped the flimsy material in his lap.

"Don't worry, the tests are all done. They've got as much forensic evidence off it that they're going to get."

"What is it?" he asked, dreading her answer.

"It's how Rogan killed the teller. Sorry," she said when he sucked in a breath. She grimaced. "It was the only thing he left behind. I was hoping you might be able to use the suit to pick up something from it."

"I don't know. I have a hard time controlling everything else."

"Eric, Brody told me last night something big is going down. He said they are using modern technology to commit acts of terrorism. If they're going to do what Brody thinks they're going to do, then they could cause the entire city's infrastructure to collapse."

"You mean cyber-terrorism?"

"It's not all about taking down buildings and suicide bombers, Eric. They've got more sophisticated about it. And by using a back door."

"So why are they robbing banks?"

"Brody says it's because banks have firewalls that they can't break. Yet. It's sort of a vicious circle. They can't hack into computer systems without the technology and for that they need money. The easiest way to not get caught is to break into financial systems like those the banks use ..."

"But they can't do it without the technology. You're right. What's going down?"

"Brody wouldn't go into detail."

Eric ran the scarf through his hands, grimacing at the thought that this had been used as a weapon to murder an innocent girl. He knew she was hoping he'd pick up some kind of psychic echo, but the scarf had been handled by so many people, he didn't think there was much he could pick up.

"Anything?" she asked anxiously. When he shook his head she sighed. Eric concentrated a little more.

"Wait. I think I am getting something," he said.

An image came through and he focused on it. It was Rogan and the boss – Alexander.

"How long?"

"All our people are in place. Twenty-four hours."

"What do you want to do about Brody?"

"Kill him. But make sure the body disappears. The last thing I want is more Feds breathing down our necks."

Eric dropped the scarf and stared at Sarah, wide-eyed.

"Oh my god!" he said.

"What is it?"

"They know about Brody. They know he's a Fed!"

"Oh my god!"


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Sarah tried Brody's phone, but all she got was a message saying there was no service.

"I can't reach him," she said, looking wide-eyed at Eric. "Can you get a reading on him?"

Eric shook his head. "Sarah, I don't like this. I think Brody's in trouble."

"Yeah. Maybe we should find the compound."

"How? I mean, I wasn't exactly paying much attention when I was flying with you out of that place."

Sarah stood up, thinking. "What did your Dad say about the suit? I mean, to get one of those visions, do you always have to have something belonging to a particular person, or ..."

"I don't know," he said. "The truth is, even my Dad didn't know exactly what the suit did."

"Superman never had this trouble," Sarah mused.

"You're obsessed with Superman," Eric moaned.

Sarah smiled mischievously at him. "Jealous?"

"Of Superman? Yeah right." Sarah sobered, the joke quickly forgotten.

"We need to find that compound."

"Yeah, you're right," he said. He stood up and brushed himself off, then held out his hands and helped her up. "Any idea where we start looking?"

"Yeah, a couple. I'm gonna go get my car and I'll meet you back here in ten minutes, okay?"

"Why your car?"

"I have GPS. And a map. A paper one. Not one you can download onto your i-phone."

Eric crooked an eyebrow at her. She laughed.

"Okay, okay, so maybe I'm an old-fashioned kind of girl. Anyway, I'm hoping you might be able to pick up a vision through the map."

That was actually fairly logical thinking, Eric decided as he watched her walk away. He picked up his shirt and put it on, still watching her. She was wearing tailored pants – for practical reasons, she told him. But they fit her well, moulding to her shapely ass. He really liked that shape, he thought.

"Come on Hinkley," he said to himself. "No time to be thinking about that."

A few minutes later, Sarah returned and he got in her car. She handed him the map and began driving out of the city.

"We know they can't be far from where we saw the ship," Sarah said as she drove. "Since that was where they found us on Sunday."

"Yeah, but from what direction?"

"Can't you remember anything from that flight?"

"I was kind of preoccupied. I mean, what did you want me to do? Stop and ask a guy exactly where they were?"

"Very funny jock boy," she retorted.

"Whatever, Princess."

"You must have some idea. What direction did you fly to get home?"

"East. I think."

"East, you think? What is it with jocks? Or is it men in general?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, immediately on the defensive.

"Now don't get defensive! I was just making a general observation."

"No, you weren't. You were generalising."

"Same thing."

"No it's not. It's like you've got a certain image of men and you're trying to mould me in that same image."

Sarah sighed. "And we were getting along so great."

"Well don't make comments like that if you're not prepared to back them up. Like I said, I was kind of preoccupied at the time. Plus I had to get you out of there. I wasn't exactly paying much attention to where I was going."

"So how did you get home?"

"I looked for some landmarks. Come on, Sarah, I've lived in this city all my life. And so have you. Are you seriously telling me you don't know where it is either?"

She sighed again. "Okay, okay. You're right. So, why don't we just try and retrace our steps, so to speak? Find the cafe on the map."

Eric looked at the map, locating the highway where the ship had stopped the car. The diner had been a couple of miles southeast of that point. When Brody and Rogan had kidnapped them from the diner, they'd taken them northwest. In other words, back along the highway.

Eric tried to remember what else had happened. But he'd been too busy watching Rogan in the back of the car with Sarah. Worried what he was going to do to Sarah.

He examined the map once more, peering closely at it. They had turned off at some point. Before they'd arrived at the same spot where they'd left the car on Sunday morning. The map was fairly detailed, giving him a good picture of the terrain.

"There's a dirt road about a mile from the diner. I think that might be where they turned off."

"Are you getting any readings?" Sarah asked anxiously.

Eric touched the chart on his lap, trying to concentrate.

"Noo, I ... wait, wait a minute ..."

Something was definitely coming through. He could see men with guns guarding a building. He told Sarah what he'd seen.

"That's not good," she said. "I wonder if they've got Brody in there."

"Maybe."

"Grab my bag from the back," she said.

He reached behind his seat and grabbed her handbag. It was heavier than he thought.

"What am I looking for?" As he opened it, he saw a gun inside. "Uh," he said, pulling it out.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "I have to carry a weapon. I'm a federal agent."

"Have you, uh, shot anyone?"

"No. But I have been trained to kill if I have to."

Well, that was sort of a relief. She hadn't shot anyone yet. Eric was no pacifist, but he still didn't like the idea of her having to use a weapon.

"It bothers you, doesn't it?" she said, still with her eyes on the road. But he had no doubt that she'd read the tension in him.

"Well, yeah, sort of."

"Not everyone's blessed with a suit with super powers," she said, with a small smile. "Eric, we're going into a dangerous situation. Do you expect me to sit back and let you do all the work? I mean, as far as the FBI's concerned, you're a civilian. And you shouldn't even be there."

That didn't make him feel any better, but she had a point. As she turned onto the dirt road, he felt the tension build once again. They were getting closer to the compound. And closer to danger. He could feel it like a tingling in his spine.

How long had they gone in the car with Brody before they'd reached the compound? Twenty minutes? Thirty? Eric worried they might get too close, meaning they'd be detected before they could get out of sight.

After ten minutes, he decided they should pull off the road and hike the rest of the way. He wasn't completely sure of the powers in the suit yet, and while he knew he could run at superspeed, he was reluctant to take Sarah with him, just in case he couldn't figure out how to stop. He didn't want to fly either. Most especially with Sarah in his arms.

All pretence at banter between them was now gone. Sarah was just as tense as he was. More so. Then again, she had her career at stake, her fellow agent's life at stake. And now the increased burden of the duty the aliens had given them.

Sarah took off her jacket and put the gun in its holster attached to the straps over her shirt. Eric watched, biting his lip. She glanced up to see him watching and smiled.

"Are you going to take off your clothes?" she asked, then blushed. "I mean, you know, use the suit?"

"Not yet. I want to see what we're facing first."

"Then I guess we start walking," she said. "Come on."

She locked the car and began walking down the dirt road in the direction of, he assumed, the compound. And it seemed the most natural thing in the world for him to walk alongside her, reach out and take her hand. She didn't say anything, but she did look up at him and smile gently, squeezing his hand in return.

They walked for a while in silence. Eric did wonder how she was going to deal with getting into the compound. She was, after all, one agent. And who knew how many were in the compound.

Sarah glanced at Eric out of the corner of her eye. She could see how tense he was and knew he was worrying about what was going to happen once they got to the compound. She knew she should have called for back-up. But the fact was, they needed proof of what the group were up to. And she needed Brody for that. There was no way her superiors would believe that she had had some kind of psychic vision. And with her father's reputation, that just made her position all the more precarious with her bosses.

She remembered the first day she'd started at the Los Angeles office. She'd been standing in the corridor, looking at the photographs of previous agents, and she'd seen one of her father, taken not long before he'd retired. He'd been a good-looking man, she decided.

"_Well, hello rookie."_

_She looked around at the older man. He was Hispanic, possibly Puerto Rican, although, from what she'd heard, he'd lived in LA most of his life. As soon as she'd learned her placement upon graduation, she'd taken a little time to learn about her fellow agents._

"_Rodriguez," he said, with a smile that seemed almost mocking._

"_I know," she said._

_He looked at the photo on the wall. "That your old man?" She stared at him in surprise. "We know the story, Maxwell. Think you're the only one who doesn't do their homework?" He grinned. "Your old man was plum crazy, that's for sure. Knew him back when I was in high school. He and this teacher I had, they were friends. Sort of. Anyways, he was always going on about green guys. You know, aliens? Like I said. Crazy." But he sounded almost fond as he said it._

"_You knew Bill Maxwell?" she repeated dumbly. _

"_Yep. I was kind of a loser back then. Always getting into trouble. But Mr H, the teacher, you know, he really gave a damn about us. And yeah, he's the reason I decided to become an agent. Figured they needed more like me out there."_

"_Yeah, well, I barely knew my father. Only met him twice my whole life, so I could really care less." _

_Rodriguez had glared at her. From then on she'd earned the reputation for being stuck up and arrogant, and her fellow agents had taken to mocking her, making fun of her father, just to get her back up._

Rodriguez, she thought. Eric's dad had mentioned someone with that last name. She wondered if it had been the same guy.

She was beginning to wonder if she deserved the reputation she got around the office. She had been kind of rude to Rodriguez. Then again, she'd always had a huge chip on her shoulder when it came to her father. But it occurred to her now that she had completely misjudged Bill Maxwell.

"You know, I once thought about going to find Bill," she told Eric.

"You did?"

"Yeah. I asked my mom about him a lot when I was little, but she used to get so upset that I just shut up about him. When I was about eleven, I decided I was going to go into the city to find him. Of course, when I looked him up in the phone book, there were like a thousand Bill Maxwells in the greater metropolitan area." She grinned sheepishly. "Well, okay, maybe a thousand might be a tad exaggerated, but ..."

Eric grinned back.

"Anyway, I realised that wasn't exactly a smart thing to do."

"You didn't think about, I don't know, going through your mom's papers and seeing if you could find an address?"

"I was eleven," she said, shrugging. "Anyway, by the time I was old enough to do anything about it, my mom was sick, and of course she'd probably fed me all these lies about how Bill was a bad father. I mean, I never even got a birthday card or Christmas card from him. I wonder now if maybe she threw them away."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you never got a chance to get to know him. I mean, yeah, he could be kind of gruff, brash. He wasn't really a people person. But he loved my dad. And my mom. I know Mom says she didn't always get along with him, and he did drive her crazy at times, but I think we were as close to family in his mind that he would ever have, you know?"

"Yeah."

A cloud of dust began appearing the distance. Eric's eyes widened.

"We better find cover, and quick," he said.

Sarah found herself grabbed around the waist and pulled quickly away from the road. There wasn't much cover, except for a small bank of dry grass. It was only big enough to cover one of them. Sarah was unceremoniously shoved down into the grass.

"What about you?" she said in a loud whisper.

There was no time left. Eric was quickly pulling off his clothes and dropping them beside her. She watched as the red jam ... er, super suit, came into view. She turned her head at the sound of a car engine, crouching in the grass, squinting as the sun reflected off the car. Another was following it, sending up another cloud of dust.

"Eric," she said, her anxiety making her voice hoarse. He didn't answer.

She chanced a look around. He wasn't there. Yet she hadn't heard him take off. Turning back to the road, she watched as the cars sped off into the distance. Thank goodness, she thought, that Eric had told her to pull off the road down into a steep valley. It would be a bitch to get out, but at least it couldn't be seen from the road. She didn't them to be looking for her out here.

Once again, she turned to look for Eric. Getting to her feet, she looked around, making sure there were no more vehicles coming up the road. Where had Eric hidden? There was no other cover in sight.

"Eric?"

"I'm right here," he said, his tone glum.

"Eric?" Looking down, she saw the imprints of his feet in the earth.

"I'm invisible," he wailed. "And I have no idea how I got like this."

Sarah couldn't help it. She knew the situation was serious, but it just struck her as the most hilarious thing that could have happened. She started to laugh.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

"This is so not funny," Eric said, sounding like he was pouting. Sarah just laughed harder. So hard she was doubled up laughing. "Stop laughing!" Eric growled.

When she finally managed to stop giggling hysterically, she looked up.

"I'm sorry, but weren't you the one who got so excited over the powers of invisibility?"

"Yeah, well that was before I actually did it. And I still don't know how I did it."

Sarah raised her hands.

"Okay, okay, let's look at this rationally."

"Rationally? That would have to be a first for you wouldn't it, Ms FBI?"

"Do you want to be visible again or what?"

"Fine!" he sighed. "Go on."

"So, why did you take your clothes off?"

"Uh, well I thought I could run somewhere and I didn't want to get my clothes dirty, or ripped, or whatever. Just, you know, so I could find a place to hide."

"I'm sensing a but in there."

"Well, then I realised that you'd be on your own ..."

"And you thought you could protect me? Gee, Eric, I'm so touched," she said, chuckling. He glared at her.

"Anyway, I was looking around for some way to cover myself and that's when this happened."

Sarah nodded. "Okay. So I'm guessing the suit works with your thought processes, or something."

"And that helps how?"

"God, just try and think yourself back to visibility. Start chanting in your head or something."

"Yeah, that'll work."

Sarah sighed heavily. "Oh my god, of all the people I had to get lumbered with for this duty, it had to be you. It's no wonder I'm the brains of the outfit."

"I have a brain," Eric protested.

"Yeah, that's why you're a jock, pinhead."

"Grr, don't call me pinhead, Princess!"

"Don't call me Princess, jock boy!"

"I hate you."

"Well, I hate you more!"

"That's not what you said last night. Or this morning!"

"I must have been out of my mind! And let me tell you something, jock boy. What happened last night will happen again when hell freezes over, and it is never to be mentioned in my presence again. And will you hurry up, because I really hate arguing with someone who isn't there. It makes me look like a crazy person!"

"You are a crazy person."

"Up yours, pinhead."

"Right back at ya, Princess!"

And suddenly there he was. A vision in red jammies. Sarah's eyes widened. "Eric, you did it!"

"Did what?"

"I can see you, pinhead!" she said, rolling her eyes.

Eric looked down at the red leggings and the little pointed shoes that made him feel like a ballet dancer with a horrible fashion sense.

"Hey! How did I do that?"

"You tell me!"

Truth was, he had been thinking at the time during his argument with Sarah that he wished he could be visible so he could kiss her and make her shut up. Because it would have been way too weird if she hadn't been able to see him.

He found himself staring at her lips. Her full, red, lush lips. Kissable lips. Which then led him to thinking about her ass, the high, plump cheeks that were just made for pinching. And oh god, why was he thinking about sex at a time like this?

Down boy, he told himself, or rather, another part of his anatomy.

Sarah was staring at him, frowning a little.

"What are you looking at?" she asked.

Ah, to hell with it, he thought. He pulled her to him, claiming her lips with his. At first, Sarah gasped, her hands on his shoulders as if she was trying to push him away but then she relaxed into it, opening her mouth a little. Eric took that as assent and slid his tongue between their joined lips, gliding it along hers. She moaned softly, her arms going around his neck as the kiss deepened.

Eric moaned in answer to her, pulling her even closer, loving the way her breasts felt against his chest. He was becoming aroused, responding to her heat, pressing against his groin and all he wanted to do was lower her down to the ground and make love to her.

But Sarah was pulling away. She managed to get a gap between them and stared at him, wide-eyed and panting heavily.

"We can't," she said. "Brody, remember? We have a mission, Eric."

He could see the reluctance in her expression and knew that she'd felt the same as him. But he didn't argue as she turned away, bending to pick up his clothes before walking back toward the dirt road. He followed, sighing.

It took another hour of walking before they spotted the compound. The road had led them through some reasonably rough territory, and rolling hills. There was a small hill overlooking the compound and Sarah got down flat just below the apex. Eric watched in admiration. Sarah didn't care if her clothes got dirty. He liked that about her.

"What do you think?" she asked. "I can see at least two guards on the gate."

Eric had been too busy admiring her ass to notice the two guards pacing in front of the heavy iron gates. It looked as if the compound had been some kind of estate once. Which begged the question why anyone had felt the need to build an estate all the way out here, so far away from civilisation.

"Eric," Sarah said, her voice sounding more than a little annoyed.

"Sorry. Uh, guess we should find another way in?"

"Or, what if you did that invisibility thing again and took the two guards out?"

"Or I guess I could do that invisibility thing again and take the two guards out." That was if he could remember how.

Sarah turned her head and glared at him. "Are you mocking me?"

"Me? Mocking you, Princess? I wouldn't dare."

"Eric!" she said, her hand getting dangerously close to the gun on her hip.

"You know," he grumbled, "I don't know why you just don't call the Feds for back up, rather than making me do all the dirty work."

"Because the aliens didn't give the Feds a super suit. They gave it to you. Get in there and stop complaining jock boy."

Forget his earlier thoughts, he decided. There was no way he'd sleep with a pain in the ass like her. Even if she did have a great looking body!

Trudging down the hill, he made it halfway to the gate, chanting in his head the whole time. 'I need to be invisible, I need to be invisible'.

As he reached the point of no return, he could feel some kind of tingling, almost like a mild electric shock. He looked down and his legs had vanished. He whooped in triumph.

"Yes, I did it!" But just as suddenly as his body had disappeared, it re-appeared. "Damn! Okay, Hinkley, focus." Squeezing his eyes shut, he concentrated. Feeling that tingling sensation again, he opened one eye, waving his hand in front of his face. Or, at least, he thought he was waving his hand. It was hard to tell, since he couldn't see it.

Moving quickly, he made his way to the gate, wondering if he should try bending the bars to give him a space to get through.

"Nah!" he decided. He backed up a few steps, took a deep breath, then ran and leapt up and over, landing in a heap over the other side of the high wall.

"Damn!" he spluttered over a mouthful of dust. But at least he was still invisible. That was one consolation.

He had little time to do anything except stand up and dust himself off before the two guards came to investigate the strange sounds. Without thinking, Eric grabbed them both and threw them through the air. They both landed heavily, their heads hitting the wall of a shed, several metres away. Eric stared in astonishment.

"Whoa!"

He turned to enter the compound, then snapped his fingers. He'd forgotten something. Sarah! Going quickly to the gate, he broke the lock and pulled the gate open.

"Well, It's about time," she said snarkily.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Princess."

"Here I was thinking you'd forgotten about me."

"No chance of that," he retorted.

She growled. "You know, if I could see you, I'd slap you right now!"

"Then it's a good thing you can't see me," he chuckled.

Sarah sighed. He really was the most aggravating man she'd ever met. And she would tell him so. As soon as they got out of this.

She would never admit this in a million years. And certainly not to Eric Hinkley. But she loved it. The barbs, the insults, the bickering. Most especially what had happened between them last night. She had never felt this way about anyone. Both exhilarated and aggravated at the same time. He was getting to her.

"So do you think you can identify the building?" she asked, twisting around. There was no answer. "Eric? Eric?"

She felt hands grab her around the waist and a low chuckle. Whirling, she glared. At nothing.

"Eric Hinkley, I swear ..."

"It was just a joke, Princess."

"We don't have time for jokes. Now will you stop fooling around so we can go get Brody?"

"I knew it," he said petulantly. "You like the guy."

Sarah hissed. "He's a fellow agent and he's in trouble. That's all you need to know."

She wasn't going to remind him that she had slept with him last night, and not Brody. Considering she wasn't planning on repeating the experience. And just because Brody was a hot looking guy, and a Fed, it didn't mean she was going to sleep with him either!

Eric sighed. She had a point. This was no time for jokes. But he needed to ease the tension somehow. Sarah was like a tightly coiled spring at times. And talk about high maintenance. The only time she ever seemed to relax was when they were bickering. And as much as she denied it, he knew she really liked it.

He looked around him, trying to remember the images in the vision. Then he spotted what looked like a building the same colour as the one he'd seen.

"I think it's this way," he said, forgetting that he was invisible and she couldn't see what he was pointing at.

"Eric, for crying out loud!"

"Oh, yeah, sorry. Uh, ten o'clock."

"What's ten o'clock?"

"That's where it is."

Sarah frowned for a moment, then realisation dawned. "Oh!"

They began walking toward the building. Sarah kept glancing around, pulling the gun out from her hip holster. Eric frowned. What was she looking for?

"What is it?" he asked, keeping his voice low. Sarah's answer was in the same tone.

"It's just ... where is everybody? I don't like this Eric. Something doesn't feel right."

"We're almost there and we haven't been stopped by anyone and you're worried?"

"Okay, so call me paranoid. I just ..."

"You just what?"

Sarah whirled around. She held up her gun, aiming it at Rogan, who was holding one of his own.

"Hiya cutie. Come back for more?" He smirked. "You know, people say talking to yourself is a sign that you're crazy."

"You want to talk crazy, Rogan ..."

He shrugged. "You know, I gotta give you props. Walking in here, no back up. Unless, of course, they're waiting for you on the other side of that communicator you must have. Or why else would you be talking to yourself?"

Sarah didn't bother to correct him. She tightened the grip on her gun, flicking the safety off.

"Uh, uh, Princess," he said, spotting the tiny movement. And damn, he was good. "Drop the gun." His expression changed from the easy-going smirk to something more menacing. "Drop it!"

Sarah swallowed. She didn't dare look around for Eric, wondering what he was going to do. She wanted to tell him not to do anything at this point, knowing that Rogan wouldn't kill her. Not yet. He liked playing with his victims.

Crouching down, she let the gun drop to the ground, then straightened up.

"Get those hands up Princess," Rogan said. "Get 'em up."

She raised her hands, then let Rogan manhandle her, forcing her to place her hands on her head, turning her around. They began walking toward the building Eric had indicated was the one he'd seen. She flicked a glance beside her, hoping Eric was there, trying to convey her plan in that one look. Don't do anything yet.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Eric thought about punching the guy out. But he'd seen the glance from Sarah and he thought she was indicating to do nothing yet. She must have a plan, although what it was he wasn't sure. All he knew was to continue following her, still concentrating on staying invisible. Even with the suit, it wasn't easy to keep his concentration and still think about a plan.

Rogan was pushing Sarah, giving her vicious jabs with his gun right in the small of her back, and Eric knew they had to hurt. He really wanted to smack this guy. He could see a massive bruise on the guy's arm and knew he'd done that to him. Good. The man was a bastard, through and through. Not to mention an animal. The thought of him doing to Sarah what he'd done to that bank teller made Eric furious.

He entered the building quietly behind them, wondering what Sarah had planned. He could only guess that she wanted to be sure of what they were dealing with first before they did anything. He sighed. Something better happen, and soon.

He didn't have to wait long. As they entered the main room, he could see Brody forced to kneel on the floor. His arms were secured behind his back, with handcuffs, Eric guessed. And he was gagged. He'd been severely beaten. There was the beginnings of a black eye and congealed blood from a cut on his forehead. There was also a cut on his lip and blood on his shirt.

The bald man was sitting at a computer terminal, watching something on the screen. But he stood when they came in.

"Well, well, well," he smirked. "Couldn't stay away?"

Sarah shrugged. "What can I say? I love a good party. So far, this one sucks."

"Charming," Alexander commented and Sarah just gave a wry grin.

Eric watched as Rogan forced Sarah to her knees on the floor beside Brody. She flicked a glance around the room, but what her message was, he didn't know. He wandered over to the computer to look at the monitor. Alexander had been watching something on YouTube.

"So what are you planning on doing with me?" Sarah asked coolly.

"Well, I'm betting Rogan here has some ideas about that. He really does love playing with his food." Eric grimaced at the bad pun.

"He's a psycho," Sarah returned.

"Careful, Princess. You really don't want to get him angry. On second thought, do. It will make your death that much swifter."

Brody murmured something and Eric guessed he was trying to warn Sarah. Alexander looked at Rogan who backhanded Brody across his face. Brody fell to the floor, unable to keep his balance.

"I have to admit," Alexander said, glaring at Brody, "you people seem to be getting smarter. It was at least six months before I realised Brody was not what he seemed. It was only when you showed up the other day that I realised he was a federal agent. Now that ... that was not your most brilliant move, Princess."

"Sorry," Sarah said, not sounding sorry at all. She flicked a glance at Brody, who was struggling to his knees, sending him what Eric assumed was an apologetic look. He could see she was thinking about something. Possibly coming up with some kind of strategy. "So, where is everybody?"

Alexander smirked again. "Do you really think I'm going to lay it all out for you? Do something as trite and clichéd as to tell you my entire plan?"

"You have no appreciation for drama," Sarah said with a snort.

"And you have no appreciation for the peril you are in, Ms Maxwell," Alexander said coldly. He looked at Rogan. "Finish this. Then join me in the main building." He strode out.

Eric watched him go, torn. On the one hand, he wanted to find out what Alexander was up to. On the other, Rogan was about to go postal on Sarah and Brody. And he couldn't just leave them to it.

He turned back. Rogan had pulled Sarah to her feet and was manhandling her. She was doing her best to fight him off, but Rogan had several inches on her and a good seventy-five pounds and he wasn't about to let that psycho get away with that.

Eric moved forward quickly, grabbing Rogan and tossing him against the wall. There was a loud crack as Rogan's head hit the wall and he went down.

"Eric!"

He looked around, then down, realising he was visible. Crap, he thought. Brody was staring at him in utter shock. Sarah sighed and shook her head, then knelt down to remove the gag.

"You okay?" she asked.

"I'll live." He looked up at Eric. "What the hell?"

Sarah glanced back at Eric, who stood there, looking embarrassed.

"Look, we can't explain right now. But you just have to trust us." She nodded at Eric. "Can you ..."

Eric nodded and moved to help Brody up, snapping the cuffs on his wrists. Brody looked surprised, then rubbed his wrists.

"I won't ask how you did that. I owe you guys my life."

"Good. Now, what's going down?"

"Alexander used to work for the government. Pentagon. Until they caught him selling state secrets. He escaped, went underground, then formed this little terrorist unit."

"How many are we talking?" Sarah asked.

"There are at least five left on the compound. Not including Rogan and Alexander."

"We took out two of the guards," Eric said. "I guess that makes three? Where are they?"

"They'll be with Alexander in the main building."

"What about the others?" Sarah asked.

"They'll be waiting for a signal from Alexander. Once they get it, their job is to take every government organisation by force. This is just the first wave."

"And what is Alexander going to do? What was he watching when we came in?" Eric asked.

"There's a meeting in Congress. They're debating the Anti-Terrorism Bill tomorrow morning. He was just watching the preliminaries."

"What Anti-Terrorism Bill?" Eric asked.

Sarah looked at him. She kept up with politics, if only as part of her job. She'd heard the Bill was going to give greater powers to police and government agents.

"It gives police, FBI, NSA, CIA, in fact any government agent the right to enter anyone's home without due cause, without a warrant, if they're suspected of colluding with terrorists. They can monitor anyone they feel has even a remote connection with terrorist groups."

"When you say remote ..."

"Put it this way," Brody said. "If your father even bumped into someone in the street who was suspected of being a terrorist, the police could walk in to his house, take his computer, monitor his phone calls, plant surveillance equipment ..."

Sarah nodded. "Look, you know how there are certain keywords they look for. There are agencies which monitor phone conversations and any keywords send out an alert. Well, this takes it further. They can use any network. Satellite, cellphone, computer, and this bill proposes to give them the power to do so without any legal ramifications."

"This sounds like a Will Smith movie," Eric said. Sarah rolled her eyes. She'd seen the movie and knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Trust me, this is not a movie," Sarah said. "And it means that there's nowhere for groups like Alexander's to hide."

"Why would he care ..."

"Why do you think, Hinkley?" Brody said, making it clear he knew exactly who Eric was. Sarah glanced at him and shook her head. Brody ignored her. "He knows if the Bill goes through, it will severely limit their activities. They rely on a network of contacts for information. People you wouldn't necessarily connect with terrorist groups."

"What exactly is he going to do?" Eric asked Brody.

"Alexander is going to hack into government computers and launch a nuclear missile. Right at the Pentagon."

"But that's not where Congress is meeting."

"No. He's making a point. If he can take down the Pentagon, like they tried to do ten years ago, they'll not only know he's serious, but also that he is unstoppable."

"Unless we get to him first," Sarah said.

"Then let's do it," Eric said.

Brody looked at him, a frown on his face. "You're really going to go in there, dressed like that? You look ridiculous."

"Brody, let it go, okay? If it wasn't for Eric, you'd be dead now."

"I'm just making an observation, Maxwell. I mean, he's not Superman."

"No, but he's as good as," Sarah told him. "And if you tell anyone about this, I swear ..."

"Who would I tell? Without ending up in the nuthouse."

"Good," Sarah said. "And we're going to have to come up with a story. The last thing we need is for Eric to be exposed."

"Just how does a baseball jock get to be ... well, whatever he is."

Sarah sighed. Brody wasn't going to let this go. And she didn't see that she had much of a choice.

"Look, Brody, I ..."

"Sarah, don't."

"Eric," she said, looking at him. "We have to." She turned back to Brody. "Eric is part of an experiment. The suit is a prototype. He was chosen as its test subject."

Brody raised an eyebrow. "A prototype?"

Sarah nodded. "There's this scientist. His name's Emil Foster. He's been working on the project for years and he finally came up with a suit which gives the wearer certain abilities. But it's top secret. I mean, so top secret that the government will deny any knowledge of it."

Eric looked at her, trying not to let the relief show in his expression. He'd thought she was going to tell Brody about the green guys and it was a relief that she'd made up a story. He admired her ability to think on her feet. And he had to admit, her fairytale sounded completely plausible. He knew if they told Brody anything about the suit being given to him by the green guys, they'd all be in the nuthouse.

Brody still looked a little sceptical, but he seemed to accept the explanation.

"Fine. You can trust that I won't tell a soul, all right? Now let's go."

"What do we do about Rogan?" Eric asked, glancing at the blonde man. He was still out cold. Brody looked at him.

"I'll make the call," he said. "You two go and stop Alexander."

Sarah picked up her gun and joined Eric at the door. Brody had picked up Rogan's gun and had grabbed a cellphone. He was dialling a number.

"Think he'll be okay?" Eric asked.

"Yeah, he'll live."

Eric nudged her. "That was brilliant. No wonder you're the brains of the outfit," he said, smiling in admiration.

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Sarah retorted.

Eric stopped her, grabbing her arm. "It's not just flattery," he said. "I wouldn't have been so quick to come up with a story like that. I meant it, you know."

"Eric ..."

He leaned forward and captured her lips with his own. For a moment, it seemed like Sarah was going to resist, and then she opened her mouth, letting him in. Her tongue glided softly against his. Eric sighed. The taste of her was sweet, but with an underlying tang that he liked.

Sarah moaned, her hands flailing, as if she wasn't quite sure what to do with them. Then they were on his chest, pushing him away.

"Eric, stop," she said, pulling away.

He looked at her, feeling a little wounded. But he could see her reluctance.

"We can't," she said softly. "Not here. Not now. We have to stop Alexander."

"You're right," he answered. "I'm sorry."

It had grown dark outside as they made their way to the main building. Sarah tightened her grip on her gun, clearly a little nervous.

There was only one building with lights on and they quickly moved to the door.

"I'll go in first," Sarah said.

"No way. If they're armed, you'll get shot."

"What do you think they're going to do to you? At least we'll have the element of surprise."

"This suit's supposed to be bullet proof," Eric told her.

"Supposed to be? You really want to take that chance?" she asked.

"I'm going in first," he told her.

"Forget about it, jock boy," she retorted. "I'm the FBI agent here, and that makes me the boss."

There was no time for an argument. And Eric knew only one way to settle it. Using just a little of the strength given to him by the suit, he kissed her hard. She staggered back, overwhelmed by the force of the kiss, looking dazed.

Eric opened the door before she could recover from the kiss, smirking. Take that, Princess, he thought.

As soon as he got inside, he knew it was a mistake. The remaining three men were not only armed with what looked like Uzis, they had also been expecting them. When they saw Eric, they opened fire. Eric yelled, lifting up his arms to cover up his face. He felt the bullets hitting, but they bounced off.

"What the f ...?" one man said.

Eric slowly lowered his arms, staring for a moment at the three men. Well, at least his Dad hadn't been exaggerating about the suit's powers. He really was bulletproof. Eric moved quickly, grabbing the guns from each one of the men and tossing them. He then swatted the men like they were flies.

Sarah had come in behind him, observing the chaos.

"Nice," she said. "What else do you have in your box of magic tricks?"

Together, they secured the three men, who were barely conscious, moaning in pain, then continued on, searching for Alexander. They found him at another computer terminal. The bald man smirked at them.

"You don't seem surprised," Sarah said flatly.

Alexander clearly chose not to answer that. "You're too late," he said. "The countdown has already begun."

"What?" Eric stared at Sarah.

"The missile launches in less than thirty minutes. And there's nothing you can do to stop it."


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

"Where is it?" Sarah growled at Alexander. "Where is it being launched from?"

Alexander just smirked at her, crossing his arms and refusing to say another word.

"I'm exercising my right to remain silent."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "You forget, Alexander, I'm a Fed, not a cop."

He still looked at her smugly. Eric looked at her, then whispered in her ear.

"Want me to take him outside, and you know, scare him a bit?"

Sarah shook her head. As cool as that would be, she wasn't sure it would work. Alexander seemed a tough customer and he didn't seem to care if he lived or died.

"Let me try something else first," she said. She handed him her gun. Eric frowned at it. "Keep him covered," she told Eric.

Sarah sat down at the terminal and began checking the history. If she could figure out where the missile was being launched from, Eric might have a chance of stopping it. She didn't know enough about computers to stop the countdown, but she did know enough to be able to track Alexander's activities.

Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she typed in a few commands. Eric watched as the images changed on the monitor, glancing now and again at Alexander. He wasn't comfortable holding her gun and he let it drop a little.

Unbeknownst to him, Alexander had been watching Eric in return. As soon as the gun began pointing downward, he took a chance, moving away from Eric and grabbing a handgun from the jacket on the hook.

Eric heard the click of the gun and whirled. Alexander was about to shoot Sarah in the back. Gasping, then moving quickly, he slammed Alexander into the wall, grabbing the gun and crushing it. He grasped Alexander's shirt collar, lifting him up against the wall. The bald man choked.

"What the hell are you?"

"The Easter bunny," Eric snapped. "Trying to shoot someone in the back. That's not only bad form, it just pisses me off. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just snap your neck?"

Sarah had turned around at Eric's gasp and she was watching, open-mouthed.

"Don't," she said. "Please, don't."

"He was going to shoot you in the back."

Sarah spoke calmly. "I know. But you stopped him. Put him down."

Eric nodded, then dropped Alexander like a stone. The man landed badly on one leg, twisting it and stumbling. He glared up at Eric, but said nothing.

Sarah turned back to the terminal. "I think I've almost got it," she said.

Eric went back to watching her, confident that Alexander would not be trying any more tricks. Sarah worked quickly, bringing up images of maps.

"The missile's going to be on a north east trajectory. You've got about fifteen minutes to get there and stop it before it hits the Pentagon." He peered at the map, familiarising himself with the territory.

"Why can't we just call the Air Force and get them to shoot it down?"

"Because it's over populated areas. And by the time they get in the air it'll be too late. You're the only one who can stop this. Do you think you'll be fast enough?"

"I have to be," he said.

Eric turned to fly out. She stopped him, kissing him quickly, ignoring the groan from Alexander.

"Good luck," she said.

Eric ran out the door and launched himself into the air. But just as he'd begun to think that all that flying practice had paid off, he found himself dropping like a stone. He landed with a crash onto some garbage cans at the edge of the compound.

"Damn!"

Brushing himself off, he ran a few steps and launched again, knowing just how vital it was that he didn't waste any time. And that he stay in the air. Chanting a little mantra in his head, Eric concentrated, focusing all his power on his ability to fly, heading for the city. He had a lot of miles to cover, but at least he didn't have to worry about flight paths. Or air traffic. He hoped.

He reflected on that kiss. It showed that Sarah was feeling the same way he was. He wondered briefly if it was just adrenaline. The heat of the moment. But no, it was Sarah. The truth was, he liked being with her. She might call him 'jock boy' as if she considered him just another ex-athlete with more brawn than brains, but he didn't think so. He saw the way her eyes sparkled as she argued with him.

When this was over, he was going to ask her out. On a date. A real one.

But first, he had to save the world. It seemed like an enormous burden in a way. But his dad had done it before him, and Eric knew he was up to the challenge. Having Sarah as his partner was going to be interesting, that was for sure. He grinned to himself. She sure was a handful.

He glanced at his watch, realising that he was over halfway there. The missile would be launching in five minutes. He guessed it would take a few minutes for the missile to reach its destination. He didn't know too much about missiles but he'd read some had quite a range. From what he'd seen on the map, this one had been launched from about a hundred to a hundred and fifty kilometres away.

From what he could tell, Eric was on the same trajectory as the missile would be once it was launched. So he should be able to see it shortly.

Sarah watched the screen anxiously. The timer had counted down to the one minute mark. Brody had joined her, holding his weapon on Alexander, who was still sitting on the floor where Eric had left him.

The program Alexander had been using would have allowed him to see the action. At least in virtual mode. Sarah continued to watch the computer generated image of the Pentagon, trying not to bite her nails. She was so going to need to get some sort of communicator. Especially if this was going to be a permanent gig. She needed some way of staying in touch with Eric.

The countdown had reached the ten second mark and she mentally counted down herself, waiting for something to happen. She glanced quickly at Alexander, who was smirking at her.

Eric stared at the thing headed straight for him. It reminded him a little of a model rocket he'd had as a kid. But this was no toy. This thing had a nuclear warhead inside.

"You're on the pitcher's mound," he told himself, trying to treat this as just another ball game. "Ninth inning, two out, two on the bases. Batter is up. Here's the pitch, and ..." It was headed right in his line of vision. Eric kept his gaze focused on his target. Catching the missile in his hands, he launched it into the stratosphere, hoping that the guidance systems would be thrown off by the sudden change in trajectory.

As he watched, there appeared to be an explosion in the upper atmosphere. Eric whooped silently. However he'd done it, it had worked.

As he set off on the return flight back to LA he quietly rejoiced at the thought that he'd just had his first successful mission.

Sarah greeted him with a hug, laughing.

"You did it," she said excitedly.

He grinned down at the gorgeous woman in his arms. "Yeah, I did, didn't I?"

Brody came out with Alexander in handcuffs. "You better get your boyfriend out of here," he told Sarah. "Back up will be arriving shortly."

"Don't you need me to ..."

"You can debrief me tomorrow," Brody said. "We've still got a lot of clean up to do."

Sarah grinned at Eric.

"So what do you want to do to celebrate our first successful mission?" he asked her.

Sarah looked at him with a shy smile. She took his hand as they began walking out of the compound.

A couple of hours later found them at Sarah's apartment. Eating pizza and drinking beer.

"You know, when I said celebrate," Eric said, "I didn't think you'd have this in mind."

"Are you complaining?" she asked.

"Hell no. You're my kind of woman," he grinned.

Sarah smirked and held up her bottle of beer, clinking it with his. They continued eating, watching the news break. Brody had not been kidding when he'd said there was a lot of clean up left to do. Federal agents all over the country were raiding houses, picking up more of Alexander's people. They had won the battle, but not the war.

Sarah looked at Eric. They'd only known each other a few days but she already felt completely comfortable with him. And she couldn't deny the attraction between them. She wanted to explore it, but she wasn't sure how to make the first move.

She found out she didn't have to. As she cleared away the rubbish and washed the dishes, Eric came in behind her. She thought for a moment he was going to wipe the dishes for her, but instead, he turned her around and kissed her, pressing his body against hers.

Sarah moaned.

"I kept thinking about this, while I was up in the air," he told her. "I mean, flying is an amazing experience, but it's nothing compared to this."

Sarah couldn't agree more.

"Eric, I ..."

He pressed a finger to her lips. "Don't say it," he said. "Let me say this. You're bossy, and you can be stuck up, but you're also funny, and cute, and I want to see where this goes."

Sarah nodded. She'd been going to say something similar, but she hadn't been able to put those feelings into words. Then something else Eric said caught her attention.

"Wait a minute. I'm stuck up? Bossy?"

"Uh, Sarah ..."

She pushed him back, poking him in the ribs. "You know, you're no picnic either, Jock Boy. You're argumentative, and pushy and ... mmph!"

She held her hands up, not sure where to put them as he kissed her again. Clearly to shut her up, but Sarah didn't mind. She slowly began to put her arms around his neck, clinging on to him as he lifted her up, carrying her into the bedroom.

She found herself slowly stripped. For a moment, she hesitated. She had never really liked seeing herself naked and it made her shy.

Eric grabbed her hand as she tried to cover herself.

"Don't do that," he said softly.

"I can't help it."

"Don't you know you're beautiful," he answered.

"So are you," she told him, watching as he stripped off. And he was too. All lean muscle, tanned skin. She reached out and tentatively touched him, fingers tracing the pectoral muscles. Eric moaned softly as he knelt on the bed, then stretched out beside her.

"Sarah," he whispered.

"No," she said. She didn't want to think about the future, the what ifs, the morning after. She just wanted to have this. Here and now. She reached out for him.

Eric moved to straddle her, his weight supported by his knees and elbows on the bed. He kissed her again, winding his tongue around hers. Sarah sighed softly, closing her eyes as Eric's mouth moved down to explore her jawline, kissing along the side of her neck.

She arched her back as his hands stroked and caressed. He was still mindful of the bruising she'd received from Rogan's assault on her, but they were yellowing. She'd always been a reasonably fast healer, and the bruises were no longer painful.

She could feel his erection against her sex and it created a tingling sensation through her body. Sarah hadn't had a lot of relationships, and she certainly hadn't had a lot of sexual encounters, but no one had ever made her feel quite like this. Like she was desperate for more. She thrust her hips up, rocking against him, as if that would relieve the sensation. But it just seemed to make it worse.

She felt feverish, burning from the inside out. She whimpered, trying to make her desire clear to Eric. But he shushed her.

"Don't be in such a rush," he said.

"I can't help it," she told him. "I want ... Eric, I ..."

She blushed hotly. She might be no innocent, but she was still shy about telling a guy what she wanted.

"It's okay," he soothed. "I understand."

Eric was so gentle as they made love and Sarah was touched by that gentleness. It was as if he really did understand her, and was perhaps concerned that she might get too nervous. Or try to stop this. But Sarah didn't want to stop. For all her protestations, all her snarkiness, she actually liked Eric. He was so different from any other guy she'd ever met. He gave as good as he got.

And why would she want to stop when this felt so good?

"Eric ..."

"It's okay sweetheart."

Sweetheart? That had her pausing a little. She thought about it for a moment and decided she kind of liked it. She could get used to it.

As they calmed down from their lovemaking, Eric looked at her. He'd noticed she'd had a little difficulty.

"I guess it's been a while," he said.

Sarah looked away from him and he gently made her look back at him.

"Sarah, it's okay. It just shows me that you're not the type of girl to sleep around."

"It's not that," she whispered. "I've never, um ..."

"You've never come before?"

"See, now you think I'm an idiot."

"No, I don't. I think your exes are the idiots. Let me guess, they didn't care whether you enjoyed it, they were only interested in getting themselves off."

"Something like that."

That just made him angry. How could anyone treat this beautiful girl like that. As if her feelings didn't matter? As if she was just a piece of meat that they could use for their own enjoyment? It was no wonder she was gun shy.

Eric rolled over onto his back, pulling her with him to lie with her head on his chest. He was determined to show her that relationships were not like that. Didn't have to be like that.

Sarah gently stroked his chest, and as pleasant as the sensation was, he wasn't ready for round two just yet. He wasn't sure she was either.

"You okay?" he asked her.

She nodded. "Can I tell you something?"

"You can tell me anything."

"No guy's ever made me feel, you know ..."

"Like what, sweetheart?"

She shrugged. "Oh, you know."

"No, tell me."

"Like I matter."

"You do matter."

A lot of things about her were becoming clearer. She pushed people away because that was how she'd been treated in the past. And he wanted to kill every guy who had ever made her feel unwanted. She was beautiful, smart and desirable.

He used a finger under her chin to tilt her face up, leaning down to kiss her. There was so much he wanted to teach her. But the lessons could wait. At least until later. He held her close and closed his eyes, yawning. Much later. Once he'd got some shut eye.

It was light when he woke. Eric rolled over and realised it was morning. He felt the bed beside him and realised Sarah was already up. Stretching, he got out of bed and pulled on his shorts, going to look for her. As he left the bedroom, he could smell coffee brewing. Sarah was standing by the counter, buttering some croissants.

"Mm, good morning," he said, putting his arms around her waist and kissing her neck. She giggled, a becoming blush showing in her cheeks. She pulled away, putting the croissants on plates and they sat down at the table to eat.

"I have to be at the office in an hour," she said. "Debriefing."

Eric reached for the cream cheese and the strawberry conserve.

"What are you going to tell them about the suit?" he said as he spread cream cheese on the warm croissant.

"I'll stick to the story I told Brody yesterday." She turned her attention to her breakfast, her blush showing once again on her cheeks. She seemed to be steeling herself for something. "Eric, I, um ..."

"What is it?" he asked, dreading her answer, thinking she might be about to say she regretted what had happened between them the night before. But he waited for her answer.

"Um, I was wondering, do you, um, want to go out? M-maybe to dinner or something?"

"Like a date? I think that's a great idea."

She smiled shyly, dipping her head. "I know we've sort of done this backwards," she began, but he stopped her.

"Sarah, there's no reason why we have to stick to set rules about this. You know, date a few times, then fall into bed."

"You're right," she said. "I just ..."

"The point is, I know we've known each other only a few days, but I think I'm falling for you."

She blushed harder. "I think I'm falling for you too, Eric," she whispered.

He grinned. "Great!"


	14. Epilogue

Epilogue

Sarah could hardly keep still during the debriefing. She was grateful that Brody did most of the talking, making it sound like they had been working together. Brody had given their bosses all the information he'd gathered in the months he had been undercover. That had led to the raids the night before.

Unbelievably, Rogan had chosen to turn on his boss and had tried to broker a deal with the authorities. He would still be charged for the murder of the teller, but part of the deal was he would get a lesser sentence. Sarah knew why he'd done it. Rogan was the type of criminal who still liked to think he had power. That he could manipulate the system to however he wanted it. She hated that he was going to get off so easily, but they'd ended up with just as big a fish in Alexander so there was at least an equal trade-off.

Sarah spent the rest of the day anticipating the evening. She had a date with Eric. He still wanted to be with her! They'd had an amazing night, and it just looked as if things were going to get better from here.

She looked up at the knock on the office door and smiled up at Brody.

"Just wanted to congratulate you, Maxwell," he said. "Nice work. Your boyfriend certainly came through."

"Thanks for not saying anything about him in there," she said, not even denying the 'boyfriend' part.

"I was going to ask you out for dinner, but looks like you're already taken."

Sarah blushed. "Yes, I am," she said. And why oh why did that give her a nice little tingly feeling at the thought that Eric was now her boyfriend?

Eric looked at himself in the mirror, straightening his clothes, making sure he looked presentable. He looked around when his dad knocked on his bedroom door.

"Going out?"

"Yep."

"Haven't seen you the last couple of days. Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Sarah and I were busy with the case. You know how it is."

"So your mother and I saw. Your first successful mission. Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does Dad." He let his father straighten the lapels of his blazer. "Dad?"

"Yeah son."

"How did it feel for you, when you solved your first case with the suit?"

"It felt great son," Ralph smiled.

Eric glanced at his watch. "Well, I gotta go. I don't want to be late for my date."

"With Sarah?" Eric nodded. "Going somewhere special?"

"Just dinner."

"Well, have fun. We won't wait up."

Eric ran down the stairs and out the door. Ralph descended at a more leisurely pace, sitting down next to his wife on the couch.

"Pay up," he said.

"Why?"

"Guess where our son was last night?"

"Sarah? Damn, I was hoping he'd hold out a little longer," Pam said facetiously. "Remind me. What was the bet again?"

"Oh no, Mrs Hinkley, you're not going to wriggle out of this one. Dinner, at my favourite restaurant."

Pam grimaced. Ralph's idea of a favourite restaurant was the Steakhouse. She'd been hoping to at least have got dinner at a swanky restaurant out of it. Then again, she knew her son, and he was never able to resist a pretty girl. Especially one who appeared to drive him crazy like Sarah did.

Dinner had been nice. No, more than nice. They'd chosen a small Italian restaurant, a little out of the way, but more intimate. Sarah had loved the way Eric had held her hand.

She couldn't deny her feelings any longer. She was seriously falling for this man. Yes, he still teased her, drove her crazy, but rather than aggravating her, it just made her laugh.

She watched him now as they drove back along the highway. The desert plains stretched out before them.

"I had a good time," she said.

Eric glanced at her and grinned. "Me too."

The car coughed and he looked down, frowning. "What was that?"

Sarah frowned. "I don't know."

Suddenly, the electrics went out, the engine stalled and the car coasted to a halt. "Uh oh," Eric said.

Sure enough, bright lights appeared in the sky. Eric reached for Sarah's hand and they looked out the windscreen as the ship hovered above them. The radio burst into life, the dial moving back and forth.

"You ...have ... done ... well. We ... are ... very ... impressed."

Just as before, a shaft of light beamed down from the ship. This time they were prepared for the appearance of Bill Maxwell.

"Hiya kids," he said, grinning.

"Hi Dad," Sarah greeted him, with much more enthusiasm than last time. Bill beamed.

"You kids did a great job. But ya know, don't get cocky now. You won the battle, but there's still a war out there."

"We know, Uncle Bill. We're ready."

"Great to hear, kiddo." Bill looked at them and smiled slyly. Sarah blushed, seeing the expression on her father's face. He knew. Somehow, he knew. But she suddenly didn't seem to mind.

"Dad?" she said.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For everything."

Bill showed a toothy grin. He saluted and walked away, returning to the ship. Sarah and Eric watched as he disappeared and the ship took off again. They were silent for a few moments.

"Damn, you know what?" Eric said finally.

"What?"

"I forgot to ask them about the instruction book."

Sarah chuckled. She leaned over and kissed him. "Never mind. We'll figure it out. Together."


End file.
